Sailor Moon X
by Suki
Summary: It's just like those hard-headed, pretty guardian optimists to track down the Black Moon Clan and invite themselves to tea! Unfortunately, a pleasant, tranquil afternoon never was safe in the Sailor Moon universe. New enemies, new arc!
1. Prelude

**Prelude**

Shortbread cookies were the key.

When he discovered that the college student's visits lasted longer and tended to frequency whenever the factor of shortbread cookies entered the equation, he made sure that a plate was always ready for her, near the shop entrance with the jingling bell tied on the handle, resting on a thin, tall table and accented with a steaming thermos of coffee and Styrofoam cups.

In the gentle murmur of business, his ears were always alert for the unique chime of the bell, as if the bounce of the guest trotting through the door was so joyous it couldn't help but laugh. Usagi would peek around the neatly arranged glass cases sparkling in the bright sunlight looking for Beruche, or perhaps Cooan, and then her eyes would spot the treats. Her streamers of blond locks swirled when she walked, in an almost humorous delight as she approached the table. Peeking at the cookies like a kitten about to pounce, she would grab one quickly, pop the entire sugared treat into her mouth, and glance around absently, trying to look innocent.

A clever idea occurred to him. He began to inch the plate of treats further and further into the shop. It was just subtle enough a change each visit that she didn't really notice, but her progress into the store improved each day.

Now, he stood in his usual place in the back, with the calculator, and the credit card bills, and his pen and account book, surveying the customers and salespersons alike. Petz was working today, which always threatened uncertainty, especially because Saffir, the brilliant and sophisticated overseer of their private jewelry business, insisted on lecturing her, and that, as anyone well knew concerning Petz, was a _bad_ idea.

He was lecturing her now, moving his right hand in strenuous motions, and Petz, with her arms crossed, narrowed her pretty eyes at him and cocked her head back and forth, further annoying him with her sassy and irrelevant replies.

Perched on a stool behind the jewelry counter, nibbling on an ovular, sandy-colored cookie, and watching the proceedings before her with a contented calmness, Tsukino Usagi swung her legs absently. Her latest treat finished, her fingers inched out to the ceramic plate and plucked another (her second – no – third) and sucked on it a little, cheek resting lightly in her palm. Leaning over the counter, she inspected the jewelry display, following the motions of the store owners as they discussed arrangements and sales tactics.

He determined he wouldn't stare, and he prided himself on his resolve. Still, he couldn't help but glance up at her every few moments, in between stapling and punching the buttons on his calculator. She must have felt his eyes alight on her because her open glance turned to him, and their eyes met briefly.

His heart turned painfully.

But she smiled, a little smile but warm, and his mouth twitched involuntarily before his glance flew back down to the accounts spread out on the desk before him. He was dressed business casually in a white dress shirt and dark slacks, the shirt open around his neck for comfort and ease of breathing. Though the whole _jakoshou_ was long gone and their marks ostensibly missing from their foreheads, the former Nemesian clansmen wore their slivers of the black moon crystal from the soft lobes of their ears in a sort of memorial to their heritage. The purple-black gems flashed light about his white face, and he still wore his hair long and loosely about his jaw and neck.

She hadn't really spoken to him since he and his brother returned, and the Ayakashi sisters made their awkward apologies to their new friends, the Sailor Senshi, and closed down their small business, moved to another section of town, and unswervingly renewed their loyalty to their old monarchs by putting themselves at whatever service was required of them. Without hesitation, Usagi and her friends followed them, rekindling their previous warmth with each other, and after brief hesitation, the Ayakashi seemed to release their uncertainty and invite them back into their lives once more – this time, two unexpected former sovereigns extra.

He remembered the first time she had come into the store with her friends (the somber, short-haired one and the chipper blond), looking around brightly, hope radiating from her in a warm glow. She saw him, kneeling on the slightly straggled carpet, sleeves rolled up sloppily, trying to put together the iron skeleton of a second-hand jewelry case. He marked the brief surprise in her then, evident only in the slight straightening of her posture, the seriousness of her gaze. Then, just as quickly, her eyes creased, and her lips curled gently, and she nodded. To which he could only nod back, fazed. Nor did she notice, as everyone else did, how the rest of the room grew quiet, expectant, and uncomfortable all at once. For a while, there was a catch in the natural rhythm of friendly interaction. Then Beruche had said, "Let me show you the back room," and the others acquiesced gratefully, and time jolted forward again.

Since then, he had seen her in the store briefly, watched as she and her friends met with the sisters after work, and even caught impromptu glimpses of her in the city. He was unsure of the events that had passed since he last encountered the senshi, but he knew that an uncharacteristic calm had settled on the universe – calm enough that the dark-haired rival had felt secure in a decision to return to his studies overseas and leave his beloved in the care of her friends and guardians.


	2. Episode 1

_Disclaimer_: _Sailor Moon_ and all the characters therein belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Original characters and story lines belong to me. This is probably the first and last time I will discliam the _Sailor Moon_ meta-series. More than that gets redundant. And I think everyone knows I don't own _Sailor Moon_, nor am I claiming to.

_Author's Note_: This is a fanfiction. I am not the originator of this fiction's universe. I have and will try to remain along the lines of canon set forth by Takeuchi; as such, a lot of concepts and ideas may seem cliche, trite, un-original. Please keep this in mind before criticizing, constructively or otherwise. There's only so much to work with.

Any plot point or character bearing any resemblence to another fan's ideas is purely coincidental. Once again, when sticking to canon, there is only so much one has to work with.

This endeavour is mainly for my enjoyment, though I would love if others could enjoy it too.

"The only other explanation I can think of is that this is only a story, made up by somebody who wanted a plot for a play." - G.K. Chesterton

Suki

* * *

**Episode I**

**/ Enter a Mysterious Enemy /**

* * *

Two young women, a redhead and a blond, were conversing under the shade of a pink umbrella.

"I swear, every time!" the redhead exclaimed, shaking her head in mock disappointment. Her jaw-length locks bounced enthusiastically in sync with her neck.

Her blond companion, who was drooping dramatically over the back of her chair, only pouted. "Naru, I will _not_ dissect a poor, innocent, pink, unborn – "

" – smelly, chubby, meaty, dirty – "

" – darling, precious, perfect little pig – "

" – fetus," Naru finished. "Usagi. They're already dead, you know."

"Doesn't matter," Usagi leaned forward over the iron lawn table to encircle a red-striped straw with pink lips and suck intently at the contents of her chocolate milkshake.

"You're going to have to in order to pass the course." This, however, she said with disinterest. She put her hand over her eyes and glanced around their outdoor pavilion of the Juuban district sweets shop.

"I just think . . ." Usagi continued, coming up for a breath of air from chugging frozen chocolate.

But Naru had already moved on, and Usagi's thought was interrupted by her friend's shrill slap on the table, causing Usagi to jump a little before glancing in the direction Naru indicated.

"Look!" Naru's brows furrowed, and she lowered her finger back onto the table. "Do you see that?"

"What?" Usagi turned her head about, flinging blond pigtails around her and resembling something akin to a floppy-eared, hopping rabbit.

"There!" Naru said, pointing again.

Usagi followed the line of Naru's finger across the street to a thickening crowd outside a novelty jewelry store. As Usagi squinted her eyes to peer closer, she observed a small news crew filming just beneath the sign of the store – Gems Plus, it was called – and speaking annunciatingly into a microphone.

"What is it?" Usagi turned back to Naru.

"I knew we weren't the only ones," Naru said, teal eyes darkening a little, and reached out to draw her glass of peach-vanilla iced cream. She took her time savoring the dregs of her dessert, then continued, "Our family's jewelry store was burgled the other day."

"What!" Usagi shrilled. "Why didn't you tell me before now?"

"Because," Naru replied, matter-of-factly, "nothing was stolen."

"Weird." Usagi leaned her face into her hands, elbows on the table, to better position herself so that she could suck constantly from her straw with minimum effort.

"Yeah, I know. Come to find out, the Aikidos' place was broken into the day before. Nothing stolen there, either."

"Well, maybe the burglar got scared and left. Or had a last minute attack of conscience!"

Naru laughed as Usagi mock mimicked a pseudo-religious experience, trembling and shaking her palms open near her ears.

"Nah," the redhead grinned.

"Well," Usagi said, leaving off charades for the time being, "how do you know that Gems Plus wasn't _really_ burgled?"

"Because," Naru folded her arms. "If they had lost merchandise, then the police would be there, _not_ the local news reporter."

"How do you know the police didn't just come earlier?" Usagi raised her eyebrows, feeling rather clever.

"Because Gems Plus doesn't open until after noon on Saturdays."

Usagi's mouth became a perfect "o." Then, "Ah, lets go see Naru-chan! I want to be on television." She sat up, nearly knocking over her empty milkshake glass.

"No, no," Naru waved her down, blushing. "Come on, we're not high schoolers any more."

Usagi showed her opinion of this by slowly and deliberately slipping out the very tippy-tip of her pink tongue, then yanking it back in again.

"Besides," Naru said, showing Usagi her freckle-nosed profile. "I happen to know that reporter. She's only broadcasted in the local area."

"Hah!" Usagi exclaimed.

Naru stood, pushing back her chair with a whining scrape. "I've got to go to class and then study for that chemistry exam on Monday. It's going to be tough."

Usagi scrunched up her nose and pursed her lips, acknowledging. "Tell me about it."

"You should study, too."

Usagi's glare revealed she thought the suggestion to be a horrid one.

"Well, you at least better work up the courage to dissect that fetal pig in anatomy class."

"No thank you!" Usagi stood and gathered her schoolbag and a few stray articles (pink cell phone here, loose bobby pin there). Then she swept out of the pavilion onto the sidewalk, calling after her, "I'll see you later, Naru-chan. Take care!"

* * *

Luna poked her head between a pair of white, flabby ankles, and then narrowly avoided being crushed by a dangerously pointed shoe heel. She dashed nimbly on top of a window ledge, and there peered through the glass commercial window into the jewelry store. Inside, a few store clerks were taking inventory and shaking their heads disbelievingly, murmuring to each other.

_Something funny_, Luna thought to herself, and Luna was not a cat who jumped to conclusions. She sensed a strange aura around the place and suspected that the odd incident of breaking-and-entering-without-taking was more than a kid who lost his nerve.

Luna's ears twitched backwards.

"These are not the first cases in our area of jewelry stores being broken into without any visible sign of robbery," a lipstick-ladden young reporter spoke into a microphone, chin-length fashionable hair bobbing. "It appears that the incident is connected to a string of pranks, all involving the felony of breaking into private property."

Luna tilted her head and shook off a wayward fly. Maybe Artemis knew something about it. She pointed her nose upward and exhaled in what was meant to be a feline sigh. He had gone with Minako to her audition today. No telling where in Tokyo those deviants could be found. She would have to wait until that evening, when the two came home to the second-story apartment they shared with Luna and her charge, Usagi Tsukino.

With one last glance into the jeweler's and an inquisitive look (the kind only a cat can give), Luna leapt from the windowsill onto the cement sidewalk and padded away.

* * *

Rei Hino was itching to move, and she didn't know why. Perched on the steps of her family's Shinto temple, dressed in traditional _miko_ garments, she perused her surroundings. A gentle breeze whistled in the leaves, the sun was warm, but the air was tepid. A pair of worshipers finished at the sacred shrine and were walking on the sidewalk toward the entrance, talking amiably.

Rei lifted her hands and tossed her masses of black hair behind her shoulders.

It'd been quiet for such a very long time . . ..

* * *

Usagi bumped her schoolbag on her knees as she walked. A little boy on a bicycle careered by, and she jumped to the side a little, bringing her left hand up to clench her collar defensively. A bit of sparkle caught her eye, and she lifted the back of her hand to her eye-level. On her slender ring-finger a heart-shaped jewel winked and glistened.

_Four years_, she thought to herself. For four years she had worn his ring. She smiled softly to herself, lowered her arm, and resumed walking. The casual shopping district hummed with the early bustle of local shoppers.

"Mamo-chan," she murmured listlessly to herself. "I wonder what you're doing right now." Her steady beau of six years (who also happened to be her mythical lover from ages past and previous lives) was engaged on a no-nonsense, long haul track to becoming a doctor, and Usagi had bared the brunt of his efforts, diligently accepting his duties as if they were her own.

Besides a brief tryst in Japan when she was sixteen (involving near-death experiences at that), annual visits during the holidays, and an extra appearance for her high school graduation, Mamoru Chiba spent most of his days studying in the infamous Americas – New England, to be exact. Usagi could only imagine the adventures, pressures, and experiences of living in a foreign land. Mamoru tried to write her often, explaining the crispness of autumn leaves, the smell of roasting hot dogs, and the incredible _slowness_ of the foreigners' way of life, but was often himself caught up in full time research and thesis-writing.

"I'm so ready to be married," she sighed, though whether it was marriage she longed for or Mamoru himself, she did not have the presence of mind to notice the neglected question, which sat, brooding, in the peripheral of her consciousness.

* * *

The bell tingled laughingly at the store entrance, but Petz didn't look up from the back desk where she scribbled maddeningly.

Usagi walked casually on the trodden carpet and went directly to her tray of cookies for her after-early-after-noon-snack snack. She lifted a cookie from its deliberate arrangement on the plate, stuck it in her mouth, and proceeded to speak to the inattentive Petz.

"Didj row dat somb jewers' ere broken into ooday?"

Petz's eyes looked upward somehow, without her head moving an inch. "Say that again?"

Usagi bit, and particles of cookie crumbled down her mouth and sprinkled about the carpet. She grabbed the cookie and chewed quickly before swallowing, and repeating, "Did you know that some – mm, what was the name? – some jewelers' – oh, Gems Plus, that was it – was broken into today? Nothing was stolen, mind you," she added.

"Mm," Petz straightened her head now to gaze easily at the blond. "I wasn't aware. Hey, Usagi-chan, mind getting one of those paper plates to eat over? You're dropping shortbread crumbs everywhere."

"Oh! Sorry!" Usagi nodded and retrieved a small plate from off of the cookie stand. She brought it up near her chin, took a second large bite, and glanced about the empty shop. "Kind of slow today, huh?"

"Everyone wants to be outside enjoying themselves in this beautiful weather." Petz removed her reading glasses and started gathering and stacking papers.

Usagi nodded, swallowed, and popped the remainder of the cookie into her mouth. She considered going for another but decided against it. Instead, she threw away the plate in the waste basket near the table, and leaned over the desk.

"Petz-chan, may I use your jewelry cleaning solution?"

"What for?"

"I want to clean my ring."

"Not again."

Usagi pushed her lips out a little and raised her hand to gaze at the heart-shaped ring. "I think the jewel is fading."

Petz would have laughed at the childish intensity with which her companion pouted but for the sincere simplicity trembling behind her eyes.

"Okay, here." Petz reached inside a drawer and brought out a shining cloth and a bottle of cleaning solution.

"Thanks!" Usagi bowed quickly, then walked to the side of the jewelry store and sat down on a stool behind a glass jewelry case. "This'll only take a minute."

As she sat shining her ring, the door bell jingled again, this time for a slightly out-of-breath young man of tall stature, lean but prominent shoulders, and rather dashing, waving blue hair.

"Got lunch," Saffir said, hoisting a paper back in his arms and walking forward through the store in the swiftness and sense of purpose inherent to his nature.

"Hi, Tsukino-san," he spoke aside as he passed her.

Then he held the bag out into the waiting hands of the pristine-looking Petz, who sat it on the desk and began rummaging immediately.

"I'm so hungry," she murmured.

"I came as fast as I could," Saffir replied. "Any customers while I was gone?"

Petz shook her head and pulled open an airy bag of potato chips. "Just Usagi-chan."

Usagi finished up cleaning her ring and slid it admiringly back onto her finger.

"Well, that's okay. We had quite the rush yesterday and Wednesday," Saffir said, leaning against the desk where Usagi had previously. "Seen my Oni-chan, lately?"

"He should be back soon." Petz munched on a crisp chip. "He usually meets with the suppliers every Saturday, so we'll get to re-stock our merchandise, I hope!"

Usagi moved from behind the jewelry counter and handed her solution and cloth back to Petz.

Petz and Saffir watched her in eerie attentiveness as she did so, as if they'd just been jolted a bit or given a good fright.

"Say, um," Petz wiped delicately at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "Usagi-chan, you don't have anywhere to leave anytime son, do you? Do you think you can help me polish some of the other jewels in the ruby case?"

Usagi's eyes brightened and she cried gleefully, "Can I try on some of the rings?"

"Yeah, okay," Petz agreed readily, but she found it difficult to keep her eyes from bouncing back to Saffir knowingly.

Usagi retrieved her cleaning solution and trotted near the entrance where the ruby jewelry was showcased.

Petz handed Saffir a ring jangling with keys, and he went immediately to open the back of the case to give Usagi access. "One at a time," he cautioned, and Usagi nodded pleasantly.

* * *

As Usagi sat polishing the jewelry delightedly, the door rang. This time, the sound of the bell was short, to the point, even commanding. The three individuals couldn't help but to look at the entrance, despite their various distractions, to see who had arrived.

A young, pretty woman stood, looking about with somber eyes. She was of fair height and build, with mahogany-brown eyes and pale blue hair. It was fine and cut evenly along her jaw, but for a long braid originating at the nape of her neck, which dangled and swayed delicately at her waste. She was dressed in a tailored suit of some chic dark fabric and had a look of significant superiority about her.

"May I help you, miss?" Saffir asked, walking up to her from behind the cashier's desk.

The woman managed to look bored without looking snobby. There was an intellectual air to her attitude.

"No. I just wanted to have a look at your merchandise," she said, smiling. She walked around Saffir and gazed at where Usagi was kneeling before the open jewelry case, polishing away. She frowned a bit at her, as if puzzled. Then her interest turned to the gems displayed.

She moved here and there from one case to another, not lingering very long, but taking everything in the shortest amount of time possible.

"Are you sure you're not looking for something specific?" Saffir persisted. (He'd always had a bit of business know-how.)

The woman turned and looked at him. She smiled. "Really, I don't think you have it," she said, pleasantly enough, but the remark was not warm. "Don't you keep any . . . you know, private stock? That you only show to . . . certain persons?"

Saffir kept his professional face, but the comment did not escape the disapproving glare of Petz, who said, "We serve all customers the same around here." She ignored the chiding glances from Saffir.

The young woman smiled again and shrugged.

She finished perusing the other side of the store, straightened, gave one last sweeping glance around the entire floor, then turned sharply and was at the door in a few long strides.

As the bell jingled objectingly, the young woman, obviously eager to be out, dashed shoulders against a taller finger, who was just turning the corner into the doorway. She came into him with no little force and almost seemed to bounce back from the collision. Regaining her bearings, she stood and looked up at him, in hesitant contemplation. He was a tall man, with delicate but defined neck and jaw-line, and eyes the color of pale ambers.

The two stood electrically charged against each other for two moments, as if they had been the same ends of a magnet and were being repelled away from each other. Then, the young woman shook her head, excused herself briefly, pulled away and moved around him and out of the store.

Demando's neck turned to watch her as she left, but the eerie feeling departed with her, and he stood facing inward again, glancing around his store, a vague inquisitiveness across his features.

Saffir simply shrugged, and Petz met his gaze with raised eyebrow.

Then he saw Usagi.

She was wiping off her hands unceremoniously on her skirt and finishing her work so that she could stand and greet him.

She nodded, a little shyly, in his general direction. "Hello."

"How are you, Tsukino-san?" he asked quietly, features unreadable.

"Well, thank you." Then she smiled.

Demando reacted by diverting his eyes downward and then elsewhere, as if staring straight on too long would cause him to catch fire.

"Saffir," Demando said, walking into the store and towards the back where Saffir and Petz were headquartered, "will you see to this new merchandise and take inventory?" He handed his younger brother a shoe-box sized container.

Saffir seized the box and immediately disappeared into the back room.

Petz crunched into another potato chip. "He gets excited about those things, you know."

"Yes, I know."

Usagi, finished with her polishing, closed the glass case and returned to the back of the store where Petz and Demando were standing.

"Anything else?" she asked cheerfully, balancing the cleaning solution once more upon the desk.

* * *

A child of about eleven years stood outside the window of the Black Moon Clan Jewelers, hands folded behind her back. A severe-moving yet beautiful young woman had exited a while ago, and the child was contemplating entering herself.

The child approached the window and put her nose about an inch from the glass. Inside, she could see two women and a man conversing. Something about one of the women made her eyes sling back after their initial sweep, like a skipping audio track. The child peered closer. It was her hair: it was so like her own, the style anyway, with one set of odangoed pigtails to the child's two. Besides that, the young woman's hair was a golden yellow, and hung daintily from above her ears like ribbons, while the child's was a creamy-white and seemed to loop and curve up behind her back.

She was just about to shift her position to get a closer look when a yell right in her ear caused her to jump away, startled. She blinked dazedly at the face scowling at her in the bright light.

"I said," the face was that of a woman, "_where did you get those earrings_?" The sassy brunette, hair pulled tightly in a bun, folded her arms and pointed ostentatiously at the child's dark gem earrings, dangling delicately from her lobes like diamond spheres.

The child's hands came up protectively to cover the sides of her head and neck. "They're mine," she said irritably.

The woman scowled. "You're telling me you didn't steal those earrings from my family's store?"

"No, why would I?" the child said. Her voice was not terribly loud or shrill, but there was an air of defiance in it.

"Come here," the woman said. And she reached out and grabbed the child by her forearm before she could dart away.

"Hey, stop that. What are you doing?" the child spoke superiorly, as if her older assailant was only deeply inconveniencing her and not man-handling a minor. "I said stop!"

The woman dragged the child into the store (with some difficulty, for she was built of some substance), causing the bell to ring itself nearly hoarse.

"Calaveras, what's this?" Petz, who was facing the entrance, moved out from behind the desk. Usagi and Demando turned to see to what issue Petz addressed herself.

"Look at this girl," she said, still gripping vice-like at the child's arm.

"Let go!"

"You hush!" Calaveras scolded. "Look!" She turned her eyes back to Petz, who now was trying to disconnect her sister's hand away from the child's limb.

"At what?" Petz said irritably. "Let her go; you want to get sued?"

"She stole from us!" Calaveras insisted. "She's wearing our family earrings! We don't even sell those in the store; she must have gotten them from the upstairs apartment."

Petz stood still at this latest remark, and Calaveras held the child out at arm's length so her sister could get a better look at her.

Petz gaped. Then she fell to her knees in front of the child. "Where did you get those?" she asked, face stern.

"I told you, they're mine!"

"Look here," Calaveras intruded, "we know you couldn't have had those, there are only a handful of earrings like that in the whole world, and they belong to us."

"What's going on?" It was Saffir, coming out of the back room to tend to the commotion.

"It's this girl – "

"Calaveras."

It was not a question or indeed a command. It was a statement, and at the stern sound of her name, Calaveras stilled and shut up quickly.

Demando now came forward and disengaged Calaveras's stern grip from the child's arm.

Once free, the girl child backed away a few feet, muttering in Calaveras's direction about the "crazy lady."

Demando noted the two black, diamond-fashioned gems dangling from the child's ears.

"Hey," came a quiet voice, in stark contrast to the rich sternness of Demando's.

Usagi stepped toward the girl and spoke thoughtfully out loud, as if to herself, "Her hair . . . she's got my odangos."

The others' eyes were on her now.

She looked around at each of them, as if suddenly realizing she was not the only person in the room. "That's my hair style," she explained.

"It's not _your_ hair style," the child said matter-of-factly. "It's my mother's."

At that remark, Usagi put her arms behind her to feel for the desk and leaned back a little. She closed her eyes for a moment. Then she moved toward her.

She looked at the little girl, knelt directly in front of her, and tilted her head. Something about the positions of their bodies in relation to each other gave the onlookers a picture of a kneeling child appealing to an underdeveloped adult.

"Who's your mom?" Usagi asked quietly, smiling faintly.

The child shifted from one foot to the other. The unassuming presence of the golden-haired young woman seemed to put her at ease, and the child replied readily, "Not supposed to give away that sort of information to strangers."

Usagi smiled fully now, like a warm moon waxing. "That's right. Hey, you're pretty smart."

She nodded. "That's what my godmother always says."

"Oh. So who's your godmother?"

The child's eyes faltered momentarily, then she looked back up. "She's just my godmother. Why?"

Now Calaveras spoke, but with restraint. "Why were you outside our store, staring in?"

The child's watery eyes glinted, iridescent, as if eternally about to burst into tears. They were the loveliest shade of pale lavender.

"Truth is," she started. Paused. She bit her lower lip, casting down her eyes in hesitation. She turned her toe sheepishly into the worn carpet, then seemed to remember she was almost a teenager and straightened her posture. "I was looking for a jeweler's that carried these same earrings."

With a meaningful glare at Calaveras she added, "And I _didn't_ steal them."

* * *

The four assembled members of the Black Moon Clan stood in a semi-circle in the center of the store. Each seemed to gaze intently through the glass shop door, past the "closed" sign, and out to where Usagi was now sitting on the doorstep with the precocious child. They seemed to be talking easily, while inside the jewelry store, the atmosphere was far more tight and strained.

"So what are we going to do?" Petz was first to break the brooding lull.

When no one replied, she said, "We can't just let her _go_. Those earrings are sacred artifacts. They belong to our family, and besides. The traces of power that remain in them can prove dangerous in the hands of an outsider."

"Supposing they're not shards of the Black Crystal," Saffir spoke up.

The others focused their attention to his smooth-browed intelligence.

"What if an enemy of ours is trying to disconcert us? Made counterfeits, gave them to this little girl, and then sent her to look for the jewelry store that carries similar gems."

"I don't know," Calaveras said. "Those are awfully good imitations. I even feel the delicate, faint power strings bonding to me, the way I always do with Black Crystal shards."

"That could be reproduced, too," Saffir insisted.

"I doubt it," Petz argued.

Demando, who had spoken nothing up to this point, said, "But there's something faintly pulling about that child."

"Perhaps she's a lost member of our clan?" Saffir conjectured. He placed his hand on his chin in a gesture of contemplation and started to pace. "In the 30th century, our family was banned to Nemesis for rebelling against the Neo Queen, but that was not our first appearance in the annals and scrolls of time."

Calaveras, who had never paid much attention to her studies, raised her eyebrows, intrigued. "So . . . you're saying the prototypes of our people – or, our ancestors – possibly exist in this time and era?"

"I don't know. It could be." He stopped pacing and looked intently at his older brother.

Demando's gaze peered steadily through the glass, to the two bobbing heads, crowned with buns like dumplings.

* * *

"What's your name, anyway?" Usagi asked.

The child looked at Usagi, eyes a bit narrow. Then, as if confirming the young woman as worthy, she replied, "It's Zakuro."

"Nice to meet you." Usagi put out her hand and Zakuro took it, warily, but let Usagi bob it merrily up and down. "My name's Tsukino Usagi. You can call me Usagi, if you like."

Usagi drew up her knees and rested her chin on them. "I like the color white. How about you?"

"Lavender," Zakuro said, eyeing her strangely. "My godmother says it goes with my eyes."

Usagi grinned. "Yes, I bet it's beautiful."

As the idea occurred to her, Usagi leaned back and surveyed the child's clothing. She was in some high-wasted navy blue shorts, with suspenders over a white dress shirt, and knee socks and loafers. She looked like a schoolgirl, but the outfit did not strike any recognizable affiliation in Usagi's mind. On her back she carried a small red knapsack.

The jangling of the persistent entrance bell broke her from her musings.

The two on the doorstep craned their necks behind them. Demando balanced the door open with one palm, nestled between it and the opposing wall, looking down at them.

"It's okay," he said quietly, eyes falling to the girl. "You can go home now."

Zakuro jumped to her feet, startled. "Wh – what?"

"You can go," he repeated.

Zakuro seemed paralyzed but for her neck, which kept darting back and forth between Demando's face and Usagi's.

"What's the matter?" Usagi asked gently, leaning toward her.

Zakuro swallowed and met Usagi's eyes. "I – I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm – " now she focused on the figure of Demando. She seemed drawn up in his gaze for two deep seconds. Then she shook her head objectingly. Turned her case back to Usagi. "Once I find the store that has earrings like mine, I'm supposed to stay here."

In the later afternoon, the air was cooling, and the doorstep draped in shadows.

Before either Usagi or Demando had time to react to this latest revelation, something sharp and small sped between Usagi and Zakuro, dashing through the door and spattering shattered glass.

Usagi jumped up, alarmed. Zakura fell back. Demando swerved back into the building like a whilring dervish. Saffir, Petz, and Calaveras looked disoriented and were shaking their heads, gazing about at the broken glass that burst into the store.

"What happened?" Calaveras breathed.

"Are you all all right?" Demando asked.

Usagi popped her face into the doorway, and the fair head of Zakuro appeared behind her shoulder.

"That was strange," Petz murmured, but before she could finish, a blast of movement darted past her face and made a loud, sickening _thunk_ against the side of glass jewelry case.

All eyes drew toward the case, where a blue, shimmering, slimy thing was wriggling.

Calaveras gaped, "It's a – "

" – fish!" finished Petz.

The thing tossed about the side of the case, seemingly possessed of the ability to float. Next moment, it darted across the room and slammed into another case, this time creating a considerable crack in the glass.

Everyone seemed paralyzed with confusion, but for Zakuro, who pushed around Usagi and ran into the store, voice shrill. "Don't!" she cried. "It's dangerous; stay away from it!"

The thing slapped against the glass and flung itself then to meet the throat of the child, wrapping its long, snake-like tail around her neck and tightening by degrees. It was not exactly a fish. It was something like a fish-dragon, with tail, fins, and a gaping, tooth-filled mouth. As it strangled Zakuro, a shock of bluish energy resonated throughout the room.

Zakuro cried out and staggered, but the creature held her up with the strength of its curling tail, hissing at the others, who were themselves trying to shake off the cold electric attack of the demon.

A flush of warm pink light breathed into the room, fighting back the cool, prickling chill.

"Moon Gorgeous Meditation!"

A gentle surge of power focused on Zakuro but maimed only the creature, which loosed its hold on the girl's neck and squirmed about high in the air. It recovered quickly, tossing its tail.

A beautiful creature knelt to gather Zakuro up in her arms. The onlookers watched blankly.

Then, Petz stepped a half an inch forward, hand out, eyes wondrous.

"Sailor Moon . . .."

The warrior stood, clutching Zakuro to her breast and backing away from the fish-demon, lashing angrily in the air. She was a sight to see, in flares of colored skirts, round pink sleeves, and wings the size of a small boat's sails. But through all this ornamentation, the streamers of golden hair waved recognizably.

This was not the Sailor Moon of their past lives.

"Petz-chan!" Sailor Moon huffed. "Please, take her."

Petz jolted forward in automatic obedience, but before she could cross the distance, the fish-demon whipped its tail and sent another jolt of freezing-wet ice shocking downward. It collided with a dazzling, glowing sphere before it made contact.

"Mars!"

Sailor Moon shoved Zakuro into the waiting arms of Petz, and ran to the side of the raven-haired woman, bright in shades of ruby about her skirt, sleeves, and collar.

"I thought you would be in trouble," Sailor Mars said, a bit too conversationally for their present circumstances.

"Why do you always assume - ?" Sailor Moon started, but was abruptly cut off by a second attack from the fish-demon.

This was skillfully blocked once more by Mars's firing sphere.

"Get her out of here," Mars ordered, tilting her head toward Petz and the others.

They nodded and made for the door that opened onto a narrow stair case and let to their private apartments above.

Sailor Mars and Sailor Moon distracted the demon with a succession of powerful attacks and it started to droop in the air.

Demando stood at the back door, rushing everyone through and up the stairs.

"Make sure they're safe," he ordered Saffir, before slamming the door behind him and reaching underneath the manager's desk to procure a long iron rod.

As he held it gripped in both hands, he felt dark pulsing energy flow through him like an electric charge. The iron rod glowed a faint purple.

Suddenly, the fish demon swerved around and flew itself at Demando. It met his rod head on and flew all the way across the room, narrowly missing the two senshi's scalps, and slamming into the shop entrance.

Sailor Moon and Sailor Mars stared wide-eyed at the thing. Heads swung around slowly to look at Demando.

His hair hovered ever-so-slightly about his neck, as if caressed by an invisible breeze.

The door opened slowly, creaking. The bell was jammed and did not ring.

A regal young woman stood at the entrance, looking at the fish demon pooled unceremoniously on the floor. Her deep eyes flickered about the room, then looked up at the three figures, waiting.

She appeared to be dressed in an acute imitation of a senshi _fuku_, in shades of blue, with a thin long braid dangling from neck to waist. Her gloves were high and offset with tall, fashionable blue boots, a vertically striped skirt, choker, wide open sailor collar, pearl drop earrings, thin tiara, and bow complete with gleaming blue broach. The most distinguishing thing about her _fuku_ was the bare waist lacking a bodice.

To the two women warriors, something about her was vaguely familiar, though her features were strange and alien.

The foreign senshi brought a bottle from her side, something like a clear canteen. Opened it. Held it out. The demon fish twitched, dissolved into a pool of water, and was sucked up into the bottle in a spray of liquid.

"Shame," she said. "All that trouble and no Crystal to show for it. Besides, I thought this place was closed."

"Who are you?" Sailor Mars was first to speak.

"And what do you want?" Sailor Moon added helpfully.

The senshi smiled and shrugged. "Nothing you have, at present. Though I am glad to know that you all are active and in the area."

"What do you mean?" Mars glared.

"I mean you elders," she replied flatly. "Expect no little trouble from me; so you might as well stay out of it."

"Like hell we will!" Sailor Mars retorted, fuming prettily. "That demon fish of yours nearly strangled a little girl!"

"Something about her must have set it off. Oh, well. It's not like you all didn't give it a nasty beating." Then her eyes found Demando. "Interesting . . ."

"Get out." It was the first time he had spoken, but the order resonated with fortitude.

"I was just leaving," the imposter senshi said. "Maybe we'll meet again."

She swept her arm in a crescent from her thigh, across her torso, and high above her head. A stream of watery light followed the hand, enveloped her so that she was no longer visible, and faded.

The senshi was gone.

* * *

"I don't like how you went about that, Nami-chan," echoed the chipper voice. The blue-suited senshi walked slowly. But as to what held up beneath her feet in the swirling grey nothingness, no modern science could tell.

Now a door appeared in the grey, and this Nami approached, opening it by the elegant swirled handles and pushing against its paneled surface to enter.

Through the door, an organic light pooled.

Nami came into a small, stone courtyard, surrounded by walls of climbing ivy and crowned with a white fountain laughing merrily in the very center of the pavilion. Resting on the edge of the marble fountain was a pretty brunette, shades of auburn strands caught in the light. Her long hair was gathered loosely into two pigtails, adorned with red satin ribbons. Her eyes gleamed a clear blue like summer sky. A pale orange gown draped about her hips and shoulders and pooled along the stones.

She smiled again. "Come sit here."

Nami stepped lightly and seated herself next to the beautiful woman. She sighed. "You know I was looking for the Crystal."

"Yes, yes," her companion said. "But the Crystal is not as crucial right now as capturing the pomegranate girl."

"I know that, Ai-chan," Nami lifted her hands in exasperation. "But how do you suppose we find that little horror? There's no knowing where in Tokyo she is, and all we know is that she's probably been sent to stay with her kin by that damned godmother of hers. I thought that by locating the Crystal, we could locate _them_, and be there to meet her when she arrived!"

"But," Ai shook her head, and her pigtails undulated gently. "You didn't take into consideration that the elders would catch on. They may be backwards, but they're not stupid."

"Neither am I," Nami claimed defensively.

"I'm not saying you are." Ai stood and swished and walked a few steps, then turned back to the senshi. "Just – let's be careful next time. I don't want any civilians dragged into this."

"I doubt that white-haired man was an ordinary civilian," Nami mumbled.

"As little attention drawn as possible," Ai added.

"Why?"

"Because the Lady wishes it so," Ai said, with a childish simplicity.

Nami exhaled. Nodded. "Right. I'll do better next time."

* * *

"Damn, this is a mess." Cooan knelt on the carpet, sweeping up shards of broken glass into her hand-held dustbin. Her thick waving black hair kept falling over shoulders. Two pointy buns atop her scalp were not sufficient to hold all her locks. "What exactly was it that attacked you guys?"

"It was an evil fish!" Calaveras exclaimed, and at her youngest sister's look of disbelief, she added, "I mean, some kind of demon!"

"Was it like the creatures Saffir used to assemble? You know, when we were after the pink-haired rabbit, once upon a time?"

"No, nothing like that," Calaveras insisted. "This thing was not man-made. It was . . ." she struggled to find the right description, "much more ancient, primordial."

Cooan just shrugged and stood to empty her bin in the nearest available wastebasket.

In the private apartments above, the fair-haired Beruche lifted a blanket over the sleeping form of the child, who was curled on the couch, breathing heavily.

Then she sat back onto the floor and glanced about the simple but homely furnished living room. In the big armchair, Saffir reclined, and Petz was perched upon the arm of this. Rei Hino shared a loveseat with her friend Usagi, and Demando leaned on his feet near the doorway.

In the center of the room was a little black cat, with inquisitive maroon eyes and an intelligently twitching tail.

"Will she be all right?" Usagi asked, leaning intently toward the end of the couch where Beruche sat.

"She's fine. Just worn and probably afraid," the fourth sister answered, catching her thick braid and twirling it over her shoulder out of habit.

"I knew there was something rotten about these so-called 'break-ins'," the black cat said, ears lowered. "Now it seems we have some imposter senshi after trouble in the city. What could it all mean?"

"You don't think it's another animamate?" Rei asked.

"What's that?" Petz inquired.

"Years ago, we were attacked by senshi imposters, fake senshi who obtained their powers by killing real ones in service of the warped Sailor Galaxia," Luna explained

"But Sailor Moon healed Galaxia," Rei said quietly.

"Yes, that's true. And I don't believe this imposter is an animamate."

"What are we going to do about the girl?" It was Demando, speaking lowly from his place by the door.

All the others looked at him.

"Well . . .." Luna turned from the child to Demando and back again. "She obviously wanted to be here. And it seems that she is a target for some real harm. If it's not too bold to suggest, I would say to keep here – with you, that is, Demando-sama, until we can find out why she insists on staying and what this new enemy wants."

"Is that all right, Oni-chan?" Saffir looked at him.

Demando nodded. "She can stay."

"Good. Then that's settled," said Beruche. "Now I want to know how we're going to pay for all those damages _and_ ward off the local news reporter to avoid creating a scene."

"We'll manage somehow," Saffir said. "We always do."

* * *

"Oh, I can't believe it!" Minako groaned.

She was sitting in the temple courtyard with her three friends in the Sunday mid-morning, leaning into her arms spread behind her, and tilting her head back. Her long corn silk hair cascaded down her back, whisking against the polished temple stones.

"I mean, I just got this serious-looking role in a magical girl series. I don't have the freedom to be a full-time senshi again."

"Tell me about it," Ami chimed. The sleek ends of her blue hair nearly brushed her shoulders now, giving her a far more mature, less bookwormish look. "My studies leave little time for even my basic needs! But that's not the point. Our sacred responsibilities as senshi outweigh – at least at present – any personal dreams and ambitions."

"Isn't that always the way it is?" Makoto said quietly. "I thought maybe the last time . . ."

"Was really the last," Usagi finished softly.

The four young women looked at her.

"Maybe it will turn out to be something small," Minako said, hopefully.

A white cat alighted in her lap, and Minako accommodated him by scratching behind his ears. "I don't want you to have your heart to set on it, Mina-chan," the white cat spoke (though no one seemed surprised). "Best to assume you won't be able to give as much as you wanted to this career just now."

"But don't by any means give up on your dream!" Makoto encouraged, reaching out to touch Minako's hand. She was long-limbed and tan, and her warm brown hair fell from a youthful ponytail tied behind her head.

Minako looked around and was met by the eager, sincere faces of her supportive friends.

"So the little girl is staying with the Black Moon Family, then?" Artemis asked (that was the name of the white cat).

"They're not pressing her for now," Luna explained. "But I don't think she'll be any harm."

"We have had unexpected guests a number of times before," Artemis added, smiling a feline smile.

"Do you think she could be another visitor from the future?" Makoto asked.

"Or Usagi's second daughter?" Ami said, smart eyes blinking.

"Nooo," nearly everyone objected, causing Ami to lean back, a bit offended.

"I was just saying."

"The last time we thought her second daughter had come to us, ChibiChibi turned out to be an all-powerful incarnation of . . ." Rei trailed off.

The four women and two cats looked at Usagi, who didn't seem to notice their thoughtful stares.

"She could be Chibi-Usa's daughter," Usagi continued hopefully. "That would explain her odangos."

"But why would Chibi-Usa send her child here and instruct her to stay with the Black Moon Clan?" Luna pondered.

"Maybe she knows something we don't," offered Artemis.

"Or," Rei said, putting her chin out haughtily, "we could just wait and _ask_ Zakuro herself."

"Ehhhh," Minako and Ami groaned amiably, while Makoto reached for a stray leaf and tossed it at the black-haired _miko_, and Usagi glanced around in confusion.

Rei-chan just laughed, while the sun beamed down on them.


	3. Episode 2

**Episode II**

**/ The Sixth Senshi /**

* * *

Usagi saw Mamoru, and his white teeth were smiling. She fell into a bed of roses, enveloping her in a lush scent. Then, thorns pricked her skin. She felt restless. Someone was shaking her.

"Usagi-chan, wake up. Wake up."

Usagi swiped dismissively at the air before her and came into contact with Minako's nose.

"Ow! Usa, _get up_!"

"Nooo, why?" Usagi groaned. Of a sudden, she sat up abruptly in bed and shouted, "Minako-chan?"

"What?" her blonde roommate mumbled, covering her injured nose and looking rather peeved.

"I have an exam today!" Usagi cried.

"I know," Minako said, lowering her hands now and assuming her rather ludicrous lecturing mother stance. "That's why you told me to wake you if you hadn't woken yourself by ten o'clock."

"What time is it now?" Usagi spread her arms out along the fluffy comforter, decorated with a jumping bunny motif.

"Ten after."

"Wah! I'm late!" She sprung out of bed, dragging the comforter a bit on the carpet, while Minako shook her head, amused.

Usagi rummaged through an already opened drawer cascading with smushed and crinkled clothing and began tossing things out onto the floor.

"Did you study?" Minako asked cheerily, sitting on the mussed bed.

"No," Usagi sighed, slipping a pair of jeans on underneath her nightgown.

The morning sunshine came full into the room, lighting up the cloud-pink walls and cute paraphernalia of stuffed animals, collectors' toys, and crafty picture frames Usagi called her _things_. She never closed the blinds, and Minako marveled that Usagi hadn't complained of any peeping toms yet.

"Well," Minako sighed. "I was going to say that you'd be all right because you'd already prepared . . ."

"Thanks a bunch, Mina-chan," Usagi wrinkled her nose and finished buttoning her blouse. She narrowly avoided tripping as she dipped down to scoop up her school bag and dart out the room.

Minako followed her through their small living room and into the kitchen, watching as Usagi stuffed a bun into her mouth.

"Say, where's Luna?" Minako asked.

"How should I know," Usagi replied, taking the bun out again. "She lets herself out through the patio whenever she feels like it."

"I know that," Minako said. "I was just wondering because she was feeling antsy yesterday. You know, after the whole commotion at Dark Moon Clan Jewelers."

"Luna's just an over-worrier," Usagi exclaimed between swallow and second bite.

"I hope at least Artemis is with her." And she turned to glance out of the sliding glass porch door, reflecting the mid-morning sunshine in a great slash of light across the living room floor.

* * *

Usagi ran unevenly along the sidewalk, trying to readjust the strap on her shoe, finish her bun, and grab her chemistry notes out of her school bag all at once. _Maybe Naru will make up an excuse for me_, she hoped.

She came into a congested place along the sidewalk, and tried fruitlessly to squirm her way through the crowd.

"What is going on?"

She reached her arm out as far as she could and only just managed to squeeze it between a middle-aged man's torso and businesswoman's sharp shoulder.

"Arg!"

Usagi fell back to adjust herself and survey the problem. The people were crowded around a store entrance, with a large red canvass spread over the doorway, and lots of lights and signs blinking about the storefront. The people seemed to be bottlenecking into the doorway, just right of which a woman dressed in a pink and white striped deli uniform stood on a stool, shouting out into the cacophony with an amplifier.

"Grand opening!" she resonated. "Come get your sweets, goodies, treats, candies, cakes, ice creams, sweet creams, pies, puddings, and sugar! Everything seventy-five percent off! Come taste our delicious gourmet desserts!" Then she moved the amplifier from her lips and swept her arm about in a grand including motion. She had chin-length blond hair, Kool-Aid blue eyes and a licorice grin. Her teeth reminded Usagi vaguely of white Chiclets.

And that made Usagi hungry.

"Grand opening," Usa breathed in awe. Now motivated by a desire stronger than fear, Usagi managed to push her way between the middle-aged man and businesswoman and shove to the front of the store, where an assortment of sugar-frosted delicacies were displayed in the window.

Her lips parted a little, and a drop of glistening saliva appeared at the corner of her mouth. There was something incredibly tantalizing about the sweets, an almost magnetic pull to them – and that was saying something because Usagi needed absolutely no help when it came to food.

"Tsukino Usagi!" came a chiding voice, abruptly snatching her out of her euphoric delight.

Usagi blinked rapidly and looked about her.

"Down here! No, here!"

At last, Usagi knelt down and put her face as low as possible to her little black cat, now tapping her tail impatiently.

"Oh, Luna, look at those goodies! I'm so hungry; I hardly had anything to eat this morning."

"Where do you think this store came from, out of nowhere and so eager to sell their goods off like madness?"

"What do you mean, Luna, it's the grand opening," Usagi patted the cat on the head, to Luna's great annoyance. "Come on, I'm going to get some marzipan. And a sugar dumpling. Maybe a few cakes, too – "

"Usagi-chan," Luna said testingly, cat-brow twitching. "Don't you have an exam to get to?"

Usagi stood up and squinted in concentration. Then her eyes turned as round as quarters. "Oh, no! My chemistry exam!"

"That's right," Luna said, closing her eyes and turning her head down, as disappointed as a parent. "Always eager to be side-tracked aren't we?"

"Sorry, Luna; love to stay and chat, but I gotta go!" Usagi braced herself and started digging through the remainder of the crowd. "I'll see you back home, 'kay?"

"Usa – " But it was no use, for the bodies enveloped her and severed their communication as cleanly and abruptly as a knife.

* * *

"Candy Land Emporium is turning out to be a smashing success," the short-haired blond in pink and white stripes smiled. Her lipstick was a candy apple red, and she kept licking them as if they were lollipops. She leaned on a high stool in the corner of the shop, watching as the white-frocked employees loaded the greedy customers with goodies.

"Don't be too smug," a voice warned. "Our goal is to catch the pomegranate girl, remember?

"Of course."

"No, I think you're forgetting." The voice manifested itself out of the shadows as the tailored suited woman, with blue braid and clever eyes. "Our recipes include a special formula, one that will react immediately and alert us to the presence of the child we're looking for."

"And how will that work?" the candy woman asked.

"We know the child has an incredible affinity for sweets. But the sugar I used is no ordinary crystal combination. It's lab-made; the bonds are strong but quite flamboyant. When they encounter an intense power, the reaction is a burst of energy, too strong not to notice, too weak to destroy."

"Well, well," the candy woman grinned. "Aren't we the smart one?"

Nami narrowed her eyes at her. "Don't get too uppity with me," she warned. "I can take that insignia off of the back of your neck at any time, and you'll lose all the power I've given to you; and not remember anything, besides."

The woman blanched and she looked visibly shaken. At Nami's steady glare, she lowered her eyes to the ground in submission.

* * *

Ami reclined on the wooden park bench, enjoying her lunch break and the sweet smell of blossoming vegetation. Beruche sat with her, leaning into arms folded casually behind her head.

"Thanks for meeting me, Ami-chan," Beruche said.

They both gazed a few yards in front of them to an old, rusting swing set where Zakuro was pushing herself back and forth with her toe in the dirt. She looked listless and bit silly, sitting there on a child's play set, with those intelligent eyes and aloofness not suitable to someone without cares.

"That's all right," Ami said pleasantly. "I know a thing or two about good schools."

"It's just that I want her to feel normal, you know," Beruche said, looking intently to where the girl swung with jerky movements. "I think that's the best way to calm her and get her settled. She'll never tell us anything if she doesn't feel safe."

Ami murmured. She smiled admiringly at Beruche. The woman had natural maternal inclinations, that was certain.

"So, if she attends school as a typical adolescent, makes some friends, excels in classes, needs help with homework . . . it will put her more at ease."

"Well, there's nothing normal about a girl her age hanging about all day long with my crazy family." Beruche laughed to herself. "Imagine it! Every morning, Calaveras and Petz at each others' throats in the bathroom, Catz cursing and primping, me changing outfits as much as I change my mind, Saffir disemboweling our kitchen utensils to find out how they work, and Demando . . . Demando-sama somber and speechless, with a façade like a sheer mountain slope and eyes intense as death's."

Ami nodded.

"Hey, Ami . . . who do _you_ think she is?"

Ami pondered the double odangoed girl, now motionless in her swing. "I don't know," she replied. She did not often have to admit to such an answer.

* * *

Rei knelt before the sacred flames, praying. _What is this new enemy?_

Sticky sweat trickled down her forehead, slipping into the creases between her furrowed brows, but she didn't swipe at it.

_Show me something. Anything_, she begged.

She inhaled deeply, releasing her hands from their clasped prayer position and dropping them downward, palms up, in the receiving position.

Behind her clamped lids, a soft light grew. The light shone more prominently and hardened itself into a shape like a crystal; then the crystal burst into many sparkling shards, stars falling.

Rei started. Before her there was nothing but the dim, smoky crackling of flames.

"Well. That was vague," she mumbled, and stood to stir the fire with her long staff.

She leaned it against the wall when she was finished and slid open the screen door, letting the fresh air in. She stepped outside and walked leisurely down the steps, allowing her eyes to adjust to the brightness.

There was a light pressure on her leg, and she looked down to see Artemis, white as a spark, pawing her gently to get her attention.

"What's up?" she asked.

* * *

Zakuro couldn't help but show a twinge of interest as she followed the pleasant admissions counselor about campus, trailed by Ami and Beruche. The energetic young counselor showed her the lockers, the classrooms, the gymnasium, and the laboratories. Ami and Beruche seemed pleased with the atmosphere and asked the counselor a lot of questions, things like _What kind of after-school activities are there?_ and _What extra help is available to struggling students?_

When the counselor finished giving the tour, Ami and Beruche took Zakuro aside in the schoolyard and asked her what she thought.

Zakuro shrugged. "I like it, I guess."

Ami and Beruche exchanged concerned glances.

"You guess?" Ami asked.

"Well," Zakuro swung her arms back and forth childishly and tilted her head. "I mean, I do. I think. That is, I've never been to a school before, so I have nothing with which to compare this one."

Ami started to open her mouth to speak, but Beruche raised her arm in front of the blue-haired young woman and quickly spoke before Ami could get a word out, "I think you'll like this school, Zakuro-chan. It's one of the best in the district, not only for academics but for well-behaved pupils and attentive teachers."

Zakuro seemed to register this with mild interest.

"Now, then," continued Beruche. "Should we get you fitted for a uniform? The counselor said you can start as soon as tomorrow!"

* * *

"I remembered something important, and I wanted to run it by you."

Artemis and Rei were in Rei's room, sitting on the wooden panels near a tea tray stacked with morsels. Rei sipped thoughtfully from her cup. A little saucer of cream was placed on the floor nearby.

"And why'd you come straight to me, instead of talking it over with Minako, or Luna?"

Artemis combed a paw over his whiskers. "You know Minako. You can't keep her focused on the mission at hand if her mind's on other things. She really wants this voice acting role. And Luna has other concerns. She mentioned a desserts store early this morning. I'm not sure what she was getting at."

Rei leaned back against the side of her bed and nodded. "Okay. So I'm the most predictable. At the temple almost every day, from nine to five, like clockwork."

"Right."

"And I like how you completely skipped over the prospect of brining it up to Usagi-baka." Rei grinned wickedly.

"Ahhh," Artemis sighed. "I'd have to find her first."

Rei licked her lips triumphantly.

"Here's the thing," Artemis said, lowering his voice confidentially. "You said that the senshi imposter said something about a crystal . . . what was it?"

"'All that work and no crystal to show for it,' I believe."

Artemis nodded.

"Do you think she was after the Silver Moon Crystal?" she thought. Then Rei gasped. "Oh no! Sailor Moon's star seed!"

The cat lowered his head, eyes closed, and thought for a moment. Then, "No. I don't believe so. The senshi was obviously targeting local jewelry stores. That's significant. She must have been looking for a particular stone, one that could be disguised as a piece of jewelry." Here Artemis paused to lap a bit at the saucer of cream. "Ah, that's good milk."

"Go on."

"Since she didn't find the gem in any jewelry store before we confronted her, she might try another approach entirely. We need to be on our guard. In the meantime, I think we should be alerted to the presence of any mysterious powers here in Tokyo. It could be the crystal our new enemy's looking for, and if that's the case, we want to get hold of it before she does."

"Might she be an enemy at all?" Rei asked. "I mean, we thought that about Haruka-san and the others and then again about the Starlights, but it turned out we were all working toward the same goals."

"I don't know." Artemis seemed doubtful. "A senshi that involves innocent civilians in her mission without a thought is not the kind of person I'd consider an ally."

"Very true," the _miko_ somberly agreed.

* * *

The breeze rose up from the street below and embraced him, hair rising about his head as if in bloom. He leaned further into the iron railing.

"How did we get here, Oni-chan?" Saffir sat on a plastic lawn chair on the porch, fiddling absently with the leaf of a potted plant. He crossed his legs and sat up. "It doesn't make any sense."

Demando closed his eyes and took in the scent of a city, living. "No," he said quietly, still gazing into distance. "We have been gifted a second chance, Saffir." He lifted his chin and shook his head imperceptibly. "She's given me a second chance."

"I don't mean that." Saffir stood and approached his brother's side. Crossed his arms upon the iron railing. "I mean literally. _How_ did we get here? It's a time discontinuity; we were born in the thirtieth century but have been _re_-born here in the twentieth, still retaining all information and memory of our past – or, future – lives."

"Lots of things were thrown when we went after the pink-haired rabbit in this century."

"And I've been thinking Oni-chan. How can our shards retain power if the Black Crystal doesn't exist yet?"

Demando released a short laugh and turned admiring eyes on the dark-haired younger man. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." Then he turned and walked off of the balcony through the sliding glass doors.

"What – what's that supposed to mean?" Saffir huffed, immediately following him into the spacious living room.

"You better go check on Cooan and Calaveras downstairs," Demando said, straightening a pile of magazines on the coffee table. He tilted his head, as if caught by something. "Where's Beruche gotten to?"

"She and Mizuno-san took Zakuro to enroll at a school."

Demando lifted his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"She says that it's _important_ for Zakuro to feel _normal_."

Demando shrugged. "Perhaps she's right."

"I don't think we should necessarily be coddling the child. I, for one, want to know what she meant by saying that she was told she has to stay with us."

"It'll come I believe, Saffir. In time."

Saffir sniffed. "You say that now, but just wait until there's something _you_ want. Then you'll get that look in your eyes and that deep sort of distraction that everyone knows is a danger. . ." Saffir looked meaningfully at his elder brother.

Demando shifted his eyes warningly. He seemed to grow a foot in stature, so that Saffir, unsteady, leaned and stepped back a little.

Then Demando softened and said, "I think the Ayakashi will see to all those worries. They have their own ways. But if after a while, they appear to be making no progress," here Demando nodded consentingly to Saffir, "you may have a try with the child."

* * *

Zakuro walked ahead of Ami and Beruche, swinging the paper sack which held her new uniform, and stepping over the cracks in the pavement. She used to play this game on the marbled floors of her ancient home, but the sticky hotness of the cement, the chattering of people in and out of stores, and the motor cars playing low and high to the beat of her heart was far less lonesome than any game she had ever known before.

She slowed as neared a large, congested crowd, then stood for a minute or two, clicking her toe impatiently. Then curiosity overtook her, and as Ami and Beruche were just approaching with inquisitive glances, Zakuro pushed her way to the store window and peered in.

A confection of beautifully decorated goodies was piled in the window. To Zakuro, they made a magical fairy city, with swirling candy cane reeds, plump muffin trees, and etched and stained glass cakes as tall as castles. She stood back a little, mouth slack, eyes in awe.

"What's that there?" Ami approached, putting a hand behind the girl's back and peering through the window. "Oh, delicious!"

"It's the grand opening," Beruche said, joining them in their silent admiration. "Hey," she said, "let's get a treat; what do you say, Zakuro."

The adolescent swallowed hard. Nodded.

"You, too, Ami," Beruche added. "My treat."

Ami nodded in agreement, and the three went to stand among the crowd filtering into the Candy Land Emporium.

* * *

Luna padded down the concrete byways, making her way far more swiftly than the bigger, clumsier humans in the neighborhood. She darted through a fence and cut across someone's yard. She was just coming out the other side, when she nearly ran into something, but her cattish reflexes took hold and her joints locked her in place.

"Luna!"

"Artemis!"

"You're in a hurry."

"Something's wrong, Artemis. I've been around that new sweet shop that just opened today – Candy Land Emporium – it's all wrong."

"What d'you mean?" The white cat sat down; put a paw behind his right ear.

Luna flexed a little to show her urgency. "The people coming out of that shop look awfully tired – drained – sick, even. But people are so intent on getting in that no one's noticed. It's also got a malignant energy coming off of it."

"What do you suggest is done about it?"

"I don't know – collect the girls. Just warn them, don't worry them. And tell them to be ready."

* * *

Zakuro bopped up and down impatiently, trying to get a look over the customers' shoulders. She could smell the sweetness drifting through the open doors, the cinnamon-scent of buns baking. She wet her lips. Even Ami and Beruche's appetites were starting to get restless.

Zakuro put her fingers to her mouth and drummed them over her lips. She was sooo hungry. She could imagine the light and lacey taste of sugar on her tongue. Nothing was quite like it. She adored sweets. She craved them.

"Aaaah, Ami-chan!"

Zakuro and her older companions looked around to see a flustered Usagi tumble up to them then halt, breathless.

"Good, you got us a place in this ridiculous line!" She smiled brightly. "I've been dreaming about it since before my exam an hour and a half ago! Oh, look, it's Zakuro-chan. How have you been?"

Zakuro nodded politely.

"We've just taken Zakuro to enroll in the Sisters of Mercy Elementary School," offered Ami.

"Ah, school!" Usagi wrinkled her nose. "Too bad, Zakuro. But at least you'll make some new friends, hm?"

Zakuro shrugged, then returned her vigilant watch over the progress of the line.

"Hey, that one's mine!" a school-boy shouted and ran after a classmate, who'd supposedly gotten the last bit of lemon meringue pie.

"I hope they don't run short before we make it in there!" Beruche lamented.

"Don't worry, we're moving," Ami said, "Look we're almost in."

The girls filed into the sweets shop, doing there best not to shove (except for Usagi). The bakery cases, for all the business the store had been doing, were full to brimming with luxurious treats.

Zakuro pressed her face and hands against the glass. Usagi nearly had a nose bleed.

"Can I help you?" A clean-looking man dressed in white appeared over the counter, tongs ready.

"I'll have that one!"

Zakuro and Usagi looked at each other in surprise. They were both pointing to a particularly decadent slice of layered chocolate cake.

"I'm sorry, you have it," they spoke in unison again.

"Eh-heh," Usagi face was a tad pained. She looked at the confectioner. Then at Zakuro. Then back at the confectioner.

"Okay, I'll take it," they both spoke. Flinched, and stared again.

"Why don't you have it," Zakuro said, almost suspiciously.

"No, no, by all means," Usagi laughed forcefully, "you go ahead."

"It's not a big deal, you two," Ami said, smiling the way she did when she found something amusing.

The confectioner in white held out a glass plate with the slice of cake atop and a silver fork perched delicately along the side. He started to lower it down towards the two pig-tailed females.

"Uhhh, all right, I'll take it!" Usagi snatched the plate and had a huge forkful in her mouth while Zakuro's hand was still in mid-reach.

"Oh, that is goooood!" Usagi gushed.

Zakuro frowned, eyebrow twitching. "Thought she said I could have it," she mumbled to herself.

Usagi swallowed heavily. But she did not lunge in for a second bite. Instead she felt the thickness of the cake slide down her throat and through her esophagus. A black tingling started to prick her inside her chest.

"Usagi-chan, you don't look so well," Beruche said, reaching out and steadying the blonde by the elbow.

Suddenly, the plate crashed. Chocolate icing smeared the clean white floor. Triangle shards of glass exploded and scattered about.

Usagi, head lowered so that her eyes and face were no longer visible, started to cough.

"Oh no, Usagi!" Ami darted in front of her, grasping her shoulders and trying to get her to look up so she could monitor her breathing.

"Nnngggaaahhh!" Usagi cried. Suddenly, her head flew back, mouth open, and a sliver of light erupted from her forehead between her two brows. The thing sent a flood throughout the tiny yet crowded space, and the other shoppers gasped, disoriented, and started to stumble for the door.

The bright flash manifested itself into the picture of a golden crescent moon, glowing constantly yet dimming with every passing second, until the light diminished entirely and left the bright mark.

Ami was about to step up to Usagi to ask her if she could speak, when another jolt of energy shoved Ami away, blowing Zakuro and Beruche a considerable distance as well.

A pink glittering light encircled Usagi, and when it finally receded, the young woman was gone, and Eternal Sailor Moon stood, slightly out of breath, shaking, but unharmed.

Sailor Moon looked about her and saw that those who had not fled like frightened deer at the burst of energy were collapsed onto the floor (confectioners and all), an eerie, sickly glow reeking out of their bodies.

"What happened?" Beruche cried.

"These people – ," Sailor Moon fell into a defensive stance.

"Something in the cake must have triggered Sailor Moon's transformation," Ami explained. From a concealed place she withdrew a tiny hand computer and began to type furiously into it, short hair clenching about her jaw like thick blue fingers.

Zakuro merely stared, blinking in awe. "I've seen you before," she whispered to herself, "in a dream . . .."

"Ami-chan!" Sailor Moon cried. "What happened to these people!"

"This food is poisoned," Ami replied, without looking up.

"Not exactly," came a perky, feminine voice.

All snapped their attention to the center of the room, where the short-haired candy woman now stood, in her pink and white striped ensemble.

"It's specially formulated," she replied, smiling like saccharine. "To catch someone special." Then she tilted her head and looked curiously at Sailor Moon. "Not who we were expecting."

"Mercury Crystal Power Make-Up!"

Blue liquid flames, like waves dancing, swirled in a cyclone, and a blue-clad warrior stood where Ami had just a moment ago.

"Who were you expecting?" the senshi asked, taking a step toward the candy woman.

"Sweets for a sweet!" the woman cried, sounding a tad mad.

"You've hurt all these people!" Sailor Moon cried. "I demand that you undo . . . whatever it is that you've done! Or in the name of the moon, I'll punish you."

The candy woman laughed. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you're not allowed to be let in on the secret recipe." Her hideously twisted smile seemed to crack. Her features changed, turning freakishly obnoxious and disproportional. Her muscles contorted beneath her skin and protruded to an outlandish size, so that her skin resembled a landscape of hills. Her dress split about the seams, and she grew at least two feet in height. She looked like an outrageous clown.

Zakuro let out a high screech. Beruche clasped the girl to her instinctively.

"Take Zakuro and get out of here," Sailor Mercury ordered calmly, and Beruche immediately grasped Zakuro by the shoulders and half-pushed, half-carried her toward the exit.

The monstrous candy woman let out a bubbling laugh and tossed a handful of objects in their direction. Five candy canes, sharpened like stakes, smashed into the wall in front of them, one putting an ugly-looking scratch on Beruche's bare arm.

"Now you've done it!" Sailor Mercury said, anger rising quietly in her eyes like a storm.

"Shabon Spray!"

A dense mist appeared, and the sound of the creaking door along with shuffling feet could be heard. The monster shook her hideous head and sent another dash of deadly candy canes about the room, but she could not see to aim at any victims.

"Mars Flame Sniper!"

A line of flame lit up the mist and found its home inside the creature's chest, then dissolved into ashes. A burning hole remained and glowed embers.

"Gotcha!" It was Sailor Mars, who had sensed the evil's presence and guided her soul's arrow with her taut, flaming bow.

But the creature was possessing of supernatural strength, and as the paralyzing mist cleared, she lurched toward the direction of her attacker.

Sailor Mars deftly leapt out of the way, and dealt a quick back kick to the monster's head. "Rancid candy-striper!" She grunted.

"Good work, Sailor Mars!"

Two more sailor-suited figures appeared in the doorway.

"More of you?" The "candy-striper" glared furiously up at Sailor Jupiter and Sailor Venus, long legs poised, as if just appearing from a photo shoot.

"We are the soldiers of love and justice!" Sailor Venus cried.

"And we don't take too kindly to spoilt food," Sailor Jupiter added.

Venus quirked an eyebrow and was about to make a witty rebuttal regarding Jupiter's fancy for cooking, when the creature procured a long licorice whip from her hip and sent it snapping towards the two warriors.

Sailor Moon intervened at the last moment, catching the long whip of licorice around her two arms and steadying her feet to pull the creature forward. But the candy-striper was strong, and she pulled on her end of the whip with a steadily growing strength.

Sailor Moon held her ground. "Somebody get her," she grunted.

"Sparkling Wide Pressure!" Jupiter's attack slammed into the creature, who abruptly let go her end of the licorice-whip, causing Sailor Moon to tumble backward.

"Venus Love-Me Chain!" Venus threw her own glowing whip about the creature, before she could scuttle form her place face-down on the floor. "Now, Sailor Moon!"

Out of the ether, Sailor Moon materialized her moon scepter, swinging the rod around to activate it. "Moon . . . Gorgeous . . . Meditation!"

The surge of warm energy stunned the creature, who squirmed about the floor, tossing her hair violently. Gradually, her seizures stilled, and she seemed to shrink. The reeking eerie light left her body, and as it did, it seemed to take most of her bulk with it, so that she was the short-haired candy woman once more, sprawling face-down among the shards and ruins of the Candy Land Emporium.

"Look!" Sailor Mars gasped.

Everyone followed her gesture to the candy woman, hair parted evenly in the middle of her head, revealing her neck. There, just above the base of her spine, was a glowing blue insignia.

"It's –,"

"The mark of Mercury!" Jupiter finished, ending her sentence abruptly, a trap shut on a mouse.

"How can this be?" uttered Sailor Mercury. She looked around at her companions, visibly distraught, eyes searching.

Before anyone could speak a word of comfort, a disappointed clucking sound made them turn to the back of the shop, where a beautiful warrior in blue was just emerging out of the back door. She was dressed like a senshi, and her brown eyes swept around the room, ingesting everything like a super computer.

"It's you!" Sailor Moon cried.

"Yes, it's me," the senshi looked bored. "Now look what you've done to my host." She gestured to the woman laying bent on the floor.

"Just what is your deal, you fake, and why did you – "

But before Sailor Mars could finish her train of thought, Sailor Mercury pushed past her, voice rising angrily. "What the hell are you doing using the mark of Mercury? You have no right to abuse it like that!"

Nami looked at her strangely. "_I've_ no _right_?"

"That's what I said," Mercury shouted, and the others watched her rage blossom. "Give up whatever power it is that you used to harm these people and whatever talisman you have that impersonates the seal of Mercury, and I will not punish you here and now for your transgressions!"

Now Nami laughed. Then her face smoothed and she looked serious, almost sad. "I expected a lot more from you, elder," she said quietly.

Mercury blanched but did not back down.

Nami shook her head in disappointment, looked back up at her challenger. Then she spoke, almost regrettably:

"I _am_ Sailor Mercury."

A chill deeper than the Shaban Spray froze the room, and no one spoke.

The words resonated deeply inside the chests of the five women gathered about their enemy. An almost pained resignation sunk into them.

But Sailor Mars wrenched herself fierily from the siren's spell and shouted, "That's impossible. That's a lie – you're an imposter!"

The counterfeit Sailor Mercury pursed her lips, lifted her hand, and snapped her fingers. The Mercury insignia on the back of the woman's neck dulled and faded, leaving only fresh white skin and no trace or mark.

"Say what you will," Nami said, pearl-drop earrings bobbing happily at her jaw and throat. "I am here for my own purposes. And I warn you once again, Sailor Senshi – stay out of my way as I go about my business. It concerns none of you."

"To hell with that!" Sailor Jupiter lifted a white-gloved fist threateningly. "Wherever there are innocent people suffering, the senshi _must_ be there – to protect them!"

The heartfelt ejaculation caused the counterfeit Sailor Mercury to raise her eyebrows shakily. Then she closed her eyes and shook her head, as if to toss off the marauding words.

"Well, I tried," she said.

Then, in a swift gesture she lifted a swirl of misty water about her body, covering first feet, then flushing upward until she was out of their sight. When the mists faded, she was gone.

Eveyone's eyes bounced instinctively then to their own dear Sailor Mercury, but she was kneeling next to the indisposed candy woman, thin fingers at her neck. "She's alive, and her pulse is stable." She looked up. "Sailor Moon, I believe if you heal her – and the others in this room – they'll be good as new. That cake was only meant to signal you out."

"Signal _somebody_ out," Beruche corrected. Her braid-crowned head of hair now appeared through the doorway. "That woman - well, whatever she was before – said it was a trap . . . for someone special."

"Where's Zakuro?" Mars asked.

Beruche stepped fully into the remains of the shop. "I sent her straight home to Demando-sama. She'll be quite safe with him."

"I better heal these people now," Sailor Moon said quietly, and the others consented in silence.

* * *

In the soft light of the courtyard, Ai-chan tended to her flowers. The violets, the daisies, the snapdragons . . .. She heard the heavy door open and clang shut again, but did not look up. Her long auburn hair slipped in strands over her shoulders. She wiped the back of her hand to her brow, although she wasn't sweating.

"Had another mishap, did we?" she asked, and her voice was not chiding.

"How did you know?" The so-called Sailor Mercury approached carefully and stood behind the other woman, waiting.

"Oh," Ai stood, dusting the bit of sparkling dirt from her hands. Turned round. "I was watching." Here she gestured to the marble fountain bubbling in the center of the courtyard.

"I was trying to find the pomegranate girl, just like you told me," Nami said. "Are not sugar and sweet things some of her greatest weaknesses?"

"So our data tells us," Ai nodded.

"If only – if only the elders hadn't interfered," Nami clenched her fists at her sides and frowned deeply.

"You did well," Ai affirmed, placing her hands on the taller woman's shoulders. "And you will have learned better for next time."

* * *

Every individual was healed successfully, and the candy woman revived without any memory of having wanted to, gone about, or successfully opened a sweets shop. The police filed it as a case of hit and run assault, resulting in permanent amnesia.

Five university students and a slightly older woman sat in the orange dusk-light, crowded in an ascending crescent on the large steps of a library. The shadows came down from the building, and stretched to reach them.

"It's some terrible counterfeit. It has to be," Makoto said quietly.

The others were silent.

Then, "No." It was Ami. "There was something . . . something in how she said it."

"Ami-chan, you can't believe that there are two Sailor Mercurys, and that one of them is attacking our community, at that!" cried Usagi.

"I don't know what to think," Ami said, and she put her cheek into her palm in a gesture that made Usa want to cry.

"I, too, sensed something organic in her," Beruche spoke quietly. Her long arms draped elegantly over her curled knees.

"Well, if she's not a fake, then do you think she's somehow been able to usurp Sailor Mercury's power?" asked Minako.

"Not possible." The little black cat put her head up and shook it determinedly. "The senshi _cannot_ share powers. And there can only be _one_ senshi of a planet at a time."

"At a time?" questioned Rei. "Then how could Sailor Moon and Sailor ChibiMoon fight alongside each other?"

"That was different," Luna insisted. "Chibi-Usa wasn't from our time. It was a loop hole. And she had her very own _ginzuishou_ to empower her as well."

"Supposing . . . that new Sailor Mercury _is_ Mercury – from the future?" Makoto looked hesitantly at Ami, who still drooped forlornly.

"No way!" Usagi jumped up. "Ami would never – never – come back into the past and do something so – utterly – warped!"

"Maybe a miscommunication . . .," Makoto persisted.

"No, she doesn't even look like Sailor Mercury," Rei waved away the notion, and Makoto knew when not to press any further.

"Well, there doesn't seem to be anything more we can decipher tonight," said Artemis. "I think it's best we all go home and get some rest."

* * *

"What's that?" Zakuro tried to nudge her head around the braced back of Usagi, who kept moving in front of Zakuro whenever she tried to get a peek at the kitchen stove.

"It's a surprise!" Usagi said, as if this were the most obvious explanation in the world.

"I can't see –,"

"No peeking!"

Zakuro set her line in a mouth seriously, then had an idea. She disappeared momentarily and returned with a stool. Usagi, occupied with the handle of a skillet and spatula, didn't notice when Zakuro placed the stool behind her and scrambled on top to get a clear view.

Usagi made a worried sound, lifted the skillet from the stove and poked nervously at the dough inside. Her pink, frilled apron was smudged with flour and bits of grease.

"Oh no. I think I've burned it!" she said mournfully. She slid the amorphous blob out of the pan and onto a plate where it sounded a wet _splat_.

"Is it food?" Zakuro asked doubtfully.

Usagi jumped, nearly knocking the adolescent from her perch.

She pouted. "I was trying to make crepes." She lifted a colored plastic bottle from the counter, "With chocolate filling," she added. "It's one of my favorites. I got Mako-chan to teach me, but now it's not working right."

Zakuro approached the plate and put a hesitant fingernail in the dough. It was rather crispy. "I've never had crepes before. Why did you want to make them, Usagi-chan?"

Usagi smiled and put her hands on her knees, though the gesture was a little ridiculous, considering Zakuro was not very much shorter than her. "Because I know how much you love sweets now, silly, and I wanted to make a treat for the both of us!"

Zakuro looked at her, mystified. Then a tiny smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. Before the break-out could become a full-blown epidemic, the sound of someone opening a drawer alerted the females to another presence in the kitchen.

Usagi shot straight up like an arrow, then softened.

Demando withdrew an extra spatula from a drawer and pushed between them – almost apologetically, one would have thought, except for the fact that he never once spoke. He placed the skillet back on the stove and pooled a little bit of the batter from the mixing bowl. Then he held the skillet by the handle and rolled the dough around and around, allowing it to thin out and spread evenly.

Zakuro and Usagi looked at each others with eyebrows raised.

They stood back and watched admiringly as Demando made a stack of paper-think crepes, evenly dispersed onto three plates (the bad one he pushed aside, too considerate to throw away, at least in the presence of its creator). Then he deftly drizzled chocolate from the upturned bottle, and lifted two plates, holding one out to Zakuro and one to Usagi.

Zakuro watched the pale man for a moment, while Usagi, too enthralled by the prospect of dessert in front of her face, bowed extensively before grasping the hot plate with both hands

Demando's features were taut and measured, but Zakuro thought his eyes sparkled a little to see the odangoed one gurgle for joy. She smiled thoughtfully, despite herself, then reached for her own plate and followed Usagi to the dining room table.


	4. Episode 3

**Episode III **

**/ Zakuro's New School /**

* * *

Zakuro sat quietly on the bed, legs dangling from the side. Outside of Beruche and Cooan's room she could hear the murmur and bustle of a house waking. Zakuro slept on a little pallet between the two twin beds, but she'd had a hard time resting the night before. So when Beruche got up and Cooan shortly after, she climbed onto the nearest mattress and faced the door, thinking.

The past few days had been startling, refreshing, and also numbing – like jumping into freezing cold water. First, being nudged into the everyday life of the quirky jewelry store owners. That was something that took some getting used to in and of itself. Zakuro's life had been solitary up until now. But the flow and interaction of her new hosts – with their natural bumps along the way – soon put her at ease. It was easy to fit in with such a large group.

Of particular interest to her were the two brothers, whose relation to the women remained uncertain in Zakuro's mind. The dark-haired one had to be the younger of the two, but only because he seemed to defer to the light-haired one, who was a tad bit taller. Even in light of this understanding, a stranger had to be observant to see that Demando actually was the head of the household, for he never really spoke much and rarely raised his voice. In fact, the one who seemed to do most of the micro-management was Petz, when she wasn't justifying this position to the equally-bossy Calaveras. As for Saffir, he was the brains of the group. He took care of most of the mathematical and formulaic necessities for running their store and home. Beruche took as much of a mother role as was needed in a house full of grown adults. And Cooan – well, she was obviously the baby (and the prettiest, or so Zakuro thought).

Nor were these the only subject of interest in her vicinity. The five female college students, who frequently visited in the shop and the apartments above, seemed to have a confiding friendship with the four sisters, and, as a side-effect, a decent toleration for their male housemates. These young women were perky _and_ pretty, with a slightly more lighthearted approach to life than that of the four sisters.

The one who had escorted her and Beruche the other day while looking at the Sisters of Mercy's was a soft-spoken, serious kind of girl. She had a gift of faith which she seemed to bestow upon everyone she met, and instilled a kind of confidence with the steady yet gentle pressure of her eyes. It was Ami Mizuno who had given her the ease and courage to attend school.

Hino Rei was a dark-haired beauty, with all the ancient mystery of a Shinto priestess. But a sharp turn of her graceful head alerted admirers that she did not think much of anyone, much less men, and she had a practicality to rival Ami's, although sometimes her competitive nature got in the way.

Aino Minako was Usagi's roommate and a rising pop idol – well, that's how she identified herself in the occupational questionnaires required to be filled out in doctors' offices. She had the personality for it, at least: engaging, energetic, talented, and beautiful. Her dramatic nature was an easy source of laughter for her friends. Her long blonde hair showered light about her, a mane of sunshine.

Of Kino Makoto, Zakuro had not seen much. But she appeared to have the positive nuance of all the others, an expansive yet elegant frame, and an unprecedented talent with all household chores. Zakuro was quick to catch on that "Mako-chan" was looked to for all the cooking, and frequently the gardening, sewing, and housecleaning as well. Other than that, she had a quiet sort of courageousness, and a steady eye that made people feel automatically safe in her maternal presence.

Then there was Usagi. She was perfectly mystifying. She seemed equal parts sage, equal parts kindergartener (or perhaps a bit more), but _all_ smiles and sunshine. There was something heart-warming to Zakuro in the way she moved, though sometimes she marveled that any one could be so simple.

Here Zakuro leapt from the bed and approached the window, where the sharp morning invaded with light. Tsukino Usagi was also Sailor Moon. Zakuro was not sure what to think of this last part. She wasn't even sure what it meant. But Beruche had ushered her out of the shop before she could get a good long look at her. And while she felt Usagi appeared rather the same, there was something mystical draped about her, like a hologram of a curtain, that made her celestial and strange.

"Zakuro." The door opened softly, and Calaveras's torso curved around the door. "You want some breakfast?"

* * *

The eggs sizzled on the white plate, and Zakuro's mouth greeted them heartily with saliva. Petz sloshed some orange juice into a glass, and placed it squarely in front of the girl, who sitting on her stool at the kitchen counter.

Petz leaned on her crossed arms and watched as Zakuro eagerly scooped the soft eggs into her mouth.

"Who's walking you to school today?" she asked.

Zakuro shrugged, chewing.

"Damn, I thought Beruche said she would take you, but she's left already."

"I guess I can walk by myself," Zakuro offered. "I mean, I've been there several times already. I know the way now."

Pertz stood and looked doubtfully at the girl. "After what happened in the Candy Land Emporium, I don't know if that's such a good idea, Zakuro-chan."

The girl said nothing, but shoveled another mouthful of eggs past her lips.

"I know!" Petz snapped her fingers. "We'll have Saffir walk you."

Zakuro's chewing slowed, but she kept her eyes on her plate.

"Can't do it," Saffir declined in passing, picking up an apple and exiting as smoothly as he'd entered.

Petz glared in his direction, fists on hips. "Lazy bastard."

"Maybe . . .," Zakuro spoke up, hesitantly. She balanced the tip of her fork along the edge of her ceramic plate. "Maybe Demando-sama could take me."

* * *

The Sisters' academy was a pleasant twenty minutes' walk from Black Clan Jewelers, and though it was spring, the newness of the day made the air chilly, like a wet kiss.

Zakuro adjusted her sailor collar around her neck, where it was still itching. Beruche had said that after a while, she would get used to it. The skirt's him touched the tips of her knees, pleated, and she wore long socks with black maryjanes. The color scheme of the outfit was navy blue and white, like a real sailor's, and the long sleeves of her top could be unbuttoned and rolled up for warmer weather.

"Here, stand still a moment." Demando stopped her and put his long fingers into the back of her collar, smoothing down the itchy lining and tucking it in to make sure it wouldn't budge.

"Thanks," Zakuro said gratefully.

They proceeded walking in silence for five minutes, pausing before traffic, then crossing an intersection.

"You seem tired," Demando said.

When Zakuro looked at him, his eyes focused straight ahead.

"I am. I guess I – haven't been sleeping so well."

Now Demando looked down, but his gaze was just disinterested enough not to innerve her.

She sighed. "I don't do very well at school."

"You mean it's hard."

"No, not at all. It's quite easy, in fact. Except for the mathematics. But that's not it, either."

"What then?" Demando took her arm gently and pulled her toward him, to allow for a projectile-like driven body to bulldoze it's way by without impact. Then he let go and proceeded walking.

"I don't really get . . . how I'm supposed to act."

Demando raised a single eyebrow.

"I mean, the other students. They have this unspoken rhythm; I don't know how to describe it. When I try to flow with it, it's like I'm intruding. They're not unkind to me, but I do feel rather like . . ."

"A fish out of water?"

"Hahh . . . yes."

His mouth corner tilted upward in an odd smile. "I see."

"If I am a fish, then I have no wings to pick up and join the others in the air."

"I can see how that would be frustrating."

Zakuro nodded.

"Have you never been around other children before?"

Zakuro slowed and Demando turned around to face her, like two open palms held up to each other.

"No," she admitted quietly.

"And how do you find them now?"

"Rather boring and juvenile."

Demando looked queerly at her. "Is that so?"

"Well . . ." She looked at her feet.

"Perhaps it's not a matter of growing wings, Zakuro-san. Perhaps what you need to do is enjoy your place in the waters, and let the birds fly down to you."

Zakuro's eyes flew up. Like moths, they flit about his face. She smiled shyly.

Demando returned hers faintly and half-turned to resumed walking.

At that moment, a whirl of blond streamers collided into him, bouncing backward at the force of his turn. Demando stepped back a little, surprised, and the collider looked up with bright flush and fluttering lashes.

"So sorry!"

"Usagi-chan?"

Usagi peered around the broad shoulders of Demando to see who addressed her. She smiled, then turned back to the tall man, blushing furiously. She bowed in apology. "What are you two up to?" she asked, trying to rebound from her so recent embarrassment.

"I'm going to school," Zakuro replied with little enthusiasm.

"Oh, that's right." Usagi put her finger to the corner of her mouth. "Just up here, aren't you?"

Zakuro nodded. Demando said nothing.

"I'll walk with you," she offered, putting her hand out to the adolescent.

This Zakuro regarded with suspicion then replied, "I'm not a little kid."

"Oh! Of course not," Usagi blushed again. "I just thought maybe you'd enjoy the company."

Zakuro was about to open her mouth to reply that Demando was more than suitable for the task, when she saw the blank sheet expression fall over the man's face. He was on his guard around Usagi; what was more, he had a softness for her – a vulnerability. Zakuro was not entirely sure how she recognized it, but it was unmistakable.

"Okay," she agreed.

* * *

_Clack, clack, clack!_

The suited woman's heels sounded in the empty hallway. She walked with a stern purpose down the corridor and turned sharply to her right, through a heavy door which led into a smoky laboratory.

Nami removed her sunglasses and slipped into a white lab coat. Early morning rays slanted into the sterile-white room with gray counter-tops.

She procured an unsharpened pencil from her pocket, held it between her eyes, and studied it.

Someone entered the room, letting the door shut heavily. "What are you going to do with that?"

"This?" Nami smiled. "This is my new creation."

"What is?" The speaker was a woman, with tight brown bun and glasses, neatly ironed collared shirt, pencil skirt, and heels. She approached Nami with mild interest.

"This pencil," the blue-haired woman replied, with a sly grin.

"What does it do?" The lab-coat woman lifted an eyebrow.

"Taps into the subconscious of the user and latches onto any unrecognizable power hidden there. The pomegranate girl is about eleven years of age. Smart too; but she'll be in class with her other peers if she wants to blend in."

"So we'll distribute these pencils to all the elementary schools in the local area."

Nami nodded. "If we put one of my custom-made school pencils into the hands of that girl-child, it will immediately latch onto her and paralyze her, alerting me of her capture."

"What if it doesn't find her? What will it do to the other students?"

"That's the clever part!" Nami grinned. "Those without the power to oppose my inventions will fall into a zombie-like submission and stagnant formation. They'll all be the same; every last one of them. But the pomegranate girl will not be affected. That's how we'll know her, out of all the children in the city."

"Children are the future," the woman said, with an eerie religiosity.

Nami scowled, "I can't stand them!"

* * *

Usagi was talking, talking, talking, words rushing from her mouth as water from a broken faucet. "So I rushed out without even glancing at the clock. I can't believe Luna woke me up so early; I wonder if she did it on purpose. I was just heading back home to try and snatch another two or three hours of sleep before my classes."

Zakuro tilted her head toward the talkative blond. "Is Luna your mother?"

Usagi lifted her eyebrows and waved her hand in front of her. "No, no. Luna's my cat. I don't live with my mother any more, thank you very much."

Zakuro sent a did-she-say-what-I-think-she-said? look in Demando's direction, and was rewarded to find the ghost of a smile trembling along his lips.

Zakuro looked back at Usagi. "Your cat is your alarm clock?"

"Well, not really. She just likes to stay on my case; never satisfied! She can be so bossy sometimes."

Zakuro thought about this for a moment, then said, "And why don't you live with your mother?"

"Well," Usagi twirled a stray thread of hair around her finger. "I guess I had to get out on my own eventually. I can't always be expecting that my mother will be there to take care of me and fix my problems. Though it's nice that I can always give her a phone call or go back to see her when I really need to."

Zakuro was silent.

"Your mother is a gentle woman," Demando said, almost in a question.

"Yes," Usagi smiled.

Zakuro saw the profiles of her two elders facing each other. A warm breeze floated between them, and Zakuro felt as if the next few moments were reels on a movie, played slowly for special effect.

Demando stopped and faced Usagi, who instinctively followed his lead; halted and watched him. His right hand went out towards her face, lifting light as a bird, and his fingers touched the place near her temple, where her bangs fell crowning her creamy face.

Slowly, he withdrew. Zakuro saw a white down feather between his fingers.

"Must have drifted down from the sky." He looked at Usagi with thoughtful eyes.

A soft glow enveloped her; and for a moment, Zakuro thought it was her own rather than the growing light of a cloud scattering from the sun.

* * *

The chapel bells sounded the morning assembly. A spring breeze blew billows of blue clouds in from the east, alternating the light and shadows.

Zakuro craned her neck over her shoulder to get a last look at the man and woman who watched at the school gate. Usagi waved, and Demando stood, statuesque, slightly behind her, like a constant holding the earth in place. Zakuro felt a funny flip inside her ribcage, and she wondered if, maybe, this is what it was like to have parents.

* * *

Aino Minako sliced backwards behind a public telephone booth, long arm snapping out to snatch and yank the unsuspecting Makoto.

Makoto, for her part, opened her mouth to protest but was overpowered by the pure weight and talent of Minako's forced whisper.

"Look, Mako-chan, look, look!" She pointed franticly, peeping out from the side of the metal electronic box.

Makoto, mouth downturned, looked uninterestedly in the direction in which Minako gestured.

"I don't see any – "

"No, over there!"

She looked again. On the opposite side of the road, just crossing the front entrance of a toy store, strolled Tsukino Usagi, pigtails swaying merrily, and a tall, pale man who moved gracefully in long strides, as one walking in water.

"Is that – Demando-sama?" Makoto blinked astoundedly.

Minako, eyes narrow, brows low, nodded tightly – _up, down_.

"Huh. I wonder what they're doing out together."

"This is very interesting," Minako said, blue eyes lit, face bright and open with mischievousness. "I think we should follow them!"

"What?" Makoto raised an eyebrow, incredulous.

She grinned devilishly. "You heard me."

Makoto sighed. "Minako-chan, I don't have time for this sort of thing. I've got to be in the kitchen in forty-five minutes to wash up and start preparing for the lunch crowd." For Makoto was apprenticed as a chef at Chateau Ricard, a gourmet restaurant of no little merit. "Besides," she added, "don't you have to drop in for a costume fitting?"

"Well, the seamstress's is open all day, and I wouldn't want to miss something important. Oh, come on, they're getting away!" She clamped onto the taller woman's wrist and propelled them forward – or, rather, backward – as it was in the direction in which they had just come. Minako walked in an irregular gait from obstacle to obstacle, trying to stay camouflaged for a hunt in the city wilderness.

"It's so weird, you know?" Minako flicked her bright bangs out of her eyes to get a better look.

The prey she stalked appeared to be walking at a leisurely pace, speaking every now and then to each other and then falling back into silence.

Makoto, who shifted her eyes in an attempt to seem uninterested, couldn't help but slip, "Just what is their relationship, anyway?"

"I don't know!" Minako exclaimed, sidling around a business woman, who offered her a disgruntled glare. "You know Usagi. But she's hardly talked to him since they've been back. It's kind of awkward."

"He was obsessed with Neo Queen Serenity," Makoto added, abandoning all charades of disinterest in favor of gaping. "Not Usagi."

"Sailor Moon, too," Minako said.

"She's got a boyfriend!" Makoto cried.

"He _is_ attractive."

Makoto looked winsome. "Kind of reminds me of my _sempai_ . . . ow!"

Minako-chan had flicked the brunette's temple irritably. "_Not now_, Makoto . . .." she scolded.

* * *

They were strolling in the bustling wakefulness of a city morning, Usagi moving hazily as her sleepiness crept upon her. Demando walked steadily at her side, but his presence was unassuming and relaxed, so that Usagi felt no sense of awkwardness or need to force conversation.

Every now and then, he would turn to comment softly to her, and she would shift her bag and smile warmly at him.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched him. Stiff fabrics did not do him justice. His cool breeziness made him better suited to the light, airy clothing he had taken to wearing; so different from the thick, fitted tunics of a past life. As she lost herself in observation, her head fell deliberately toward him, studying. He had always been pale; now a rosy-ness flushed just beneath his skin's surface.

She smiled faintly, despite herself. He looked healthy.

"Do you like it here?" The question congealed out of nowhere, and her eyes widened slightly, realizing her inquiry just as she spoke it.

Demando made his sideways glance at her then returned his gaze forward.

They stopped at an intersection and stood for a while, neither looking at the other. A few moments stretched out around them, and Usagi felt as though she were seeping into warmth, like a hot bath after a long day.

Finally, he looked at her, and his gaze was steady but timid, "Yes. I do."

Usagi smiled.

He put his hand lightly on her shoulder and brought his face around and forward to her cheek, kissing her lightly.

Usagi felt a twisting heat swirl up beneath her ribcage, temporarily paralyzing her, and when she returned to herself, she was only aware of his retreating back, having parted from her company.

* * *

The children flowed into their classrooms in easy clumps, collecting around the lockers, desks, and project areas to socialize. Only Zakuro was solitary, and she went straight to her chair and began to arrange her books. One child went to a window and lifted the pane open, leaned out and shouted something to a friend running in late.

"Now, Tanaka-san. Settle down," came a gentle yet insistent voice. "We're going to start lessons."

The boy nodded and trotted off to his desk, past his honey-blonde teacher in flowing dress.

"Everyone, please take your seats," she instructed, in sweet tones.

The sixth graders shook out their rowdiness as they made their way home and into their chairs. One child stopped in route to stand at the head of Zakuro's desk and tilt her face curiously.

"Hey, Zakuro-san," she said, pigtails swaying, "was that your mother and father who dropped you off for morning assembly today? They look so young!"

Another girl, having caught this juicy scrap of gossip, plopped her hands down on the wooden desk. "I saw them, too! Zakuro-san, you should invite them to Parents' Day. How come you never mentioned them before? I thought you were an orphan . . ."

"I'm not an orphan," Zakuro said crossly, indiscreetly shoving her books to the top of her desk so that her classmate had to remove her hands.

The first girl who had spoken now turned to her classmate and continued speaking, "My mother says it's a shame when people have children so young. They're hardly adults themselves. I bet Zakuro's mom and dad – "

"Those weren't my parents," Zakuro snapped tightly.

"All right, Sato-san, sit down," came the persistent voice again, and the two classmates scurried off to their desks to avoid the saccharine insistence of their schoolteacher.

In the muffled sound of children settling, the door whined loudly, opening, and a neat-haired woman wearing glasses entered the room, coming with precise steps to the teacher, speaking to her in confidence.

The teacher nodded and smiled, then said, "All right class. Higa-sensei has something special for you today! I want you all to greet Higa-sensei and tell her how much you appreciate her thoughtfulness."

"Good moooorning, Higa-sensi, how aaaare you," chimed the unified voice of the adolescents.

Higa-sensei stepped to the front and center, neat skirt snapping, and addressed the class. "Good morning, children. The Sisters of Mercy Academy is very fortunate to have generous benefactors that contribute to our school and make tax-free donations – all to ensure the education of our future generations! We should be very grateful!

"Today, we have a special contribution from the Mirai Corporation. They have given us the first products of their new line of precision writing pencils. Now," here she produced a large cardboard box from off of the teacher's desk, "I am going to pass around this box of pencils so that you may each take one. I would like all of you to use these pencils today. It is very important that we test them so as to show our gratitude to the Mirai Corporation in our helpful feedback!

"Any questions?"

"Nooo, Higa-sensei."

"Good! Then I expect all of you to study diligently today. Put those pencils to work!" And her smile was tight and tense, like the brown bun at the base of her skull.

* * *

Higa-sensei strolled down the echoing hallways with a high chin and a whistle on her mouth.

"You're chipper."

"Seeing to it that the children are receiving the best of educations!" Higa replied.

Nami stood by a large window opening into the empty courtyard. "Yes, well, let's hope that the other schools will distribute the pencils as thoroughly. I don't want any slip-ups this time."

But Higa wasn't listening and had continued down the corridor humming to herself.

Nami scrutinized the woman. As she did, a slash of blue glowed at the back of Higa's ankle and then faded into her flesh once more.

* * *

Zakuro watched as the box of pencils made its way around the room. She was just about to reach forward and retrieve a pencil for herself, when a tap on the shoulder demanded her attention.

It was the boy classmate from the window. He put his hand up to his mouth and said quietly, "Hey, did you understand that English story we were to read for homework? What was it about?"

Zakuro pushed out her lips and closed her eyes, exhaling. "It was about a girl in World War II, and how she had to go into hiding . . . Tanaka-san, I can't tell you. You're supposed to do the work for yourself."

"Yeah, but you're so good at it, Zakuro-san. You're like a freak of nature when it comes to lessons. You get it in an instant."

Around her, discreetly, she could hear her other classmates murmur in agreement."

"I'm not a freak," Zakuro said quietly, eyes lowered.

Then she looked around, suddenly remembering. "Hey, I didn't get a pencil."

"Too late," a girl in the back said, shaking the empty cardboard box. "They're all gone."

Tanaka held his pencil horizontally before him. Lowered it. Tipped it on the eraser side, then to the leaded side, then back again, like a teeter-totter.

"Doesn't seem all that revolutionary to me," he said. As he did this, his motions slowed and he settled into a quietness that was uncharacteristic.

"Tanaka-san?" Zakuro said. "The English translations?"

Tanaka seemed to have been yanked away from a great depth. He looked at her mistily, and took several moments before speaking. "Oh, yes. The English homework. You know, Zakuro-san," he replied in monotone, "I really should do the work for myself." He reached into his desk and pulled out a sloppy notebook. Upon opening it, he bowed his head low near the paper and began to press deeply into it with his pencil.

Zakuro watched him curiously for a while before turning back around to face forward in her desk. She briefly studied the words the teacher was marking on the board in chalk.

She sensed an eerie quiet grow around, and when the silence temped her to look, she found all her classmates settling into a trance-like attentiveness. She furrowed her brows and turned around in wide arcs in her seat.

The teacher, oblivious, continued to scratch on the board, speaking pleasantly to herself like a parrot.

Satisfied with this most recent revelation, Zakuro slid into her chair and leaned her head back heavily. Just when she thought she was beginning to understand them, her peers pulled another about-face, as if they did it just to spite her. The group instinct of the youth was something she utterly lacked from observation _or_ experience, having been raised alone by her godmother. And she could never grasp the intuitive necessity of her peers to follow the lead of a few strong individuals to this point of conformity.

With this last thought she put her old yet trusty pencil to her notebook and started scribbling.

* * *

"Bad, bad, bad!"

Luna, as usual, was running franticly down the city sidewalk in the direction of something dangerous, with no helpful senshi to be found.

She swished by forests of legs and leapt upon a curb to catch her breath. As she paused, legs splayed, chest heaving, she saw in front of her two recognizable figures, bumbling along like schoolchildren sharing gossip.

"Aino Minako and Kino Makoto!"

A nearby man flicked his newspaper closed and glanced about his feet to detect the source of the heated outburst. But a little black cat sped through his feet and ran off, revealing no sign of the angered party.

Luna made a brilliant leap from the ground to Minako's shoulder.

"Wha – ah!" The blonde reacted with a twirl and a screech, much to Luna's consternation.

Thus the cat had to bring her nails out to cling to her shirt collar. "Stay still!"

"It's Luna!" Makoto lifted the ruffled feline from off of her frazzled companion and held her against her chest; peered down to make eye contact. "What's up?"

Luna took a deep breath, grateful to be in the safe arms of the maternal Makoto.

"Hey, you shouldn't jump up on people like that, you know," Minako scolded, smoothing out her skirt and trying to rearrange her hair.

"I'm sorry," Luna apologized. She opened her mouth to speak but said something completely different than what she'd originally intended. "What are you two doing here? Minako-chan, you have a costume fitting, and Makoto – "

"Has to go to work!" the tall young woman finished, smiling ironically.

"Uh-uh," Luna shook her head. "It'll have to wait. We need senshi scouts, and we need them now."

"Oh my gosh, Luna," Minako put her face down into the eye line of the little cat, which was, awkwardly, also the vicinity of Makoto's chest. But Minako paid little attention to Makoto's quirking eyebrows. "We saw Usagi-chan, and guess who she was with?"

"The police?"

"No! Guess again."

"Minako . . ." Makoto warned.

"She was with Demando-sama."

"Minako, I don't think . . ." Luna stopped. "Demando-sama?"

Minako nodded up and down enthusiastically.

"What were they – wait, that's not important right now!"

Luna shook out her ears and leapt from Makoto's arms onto the sidewalk. "Follow me. I'm sensing a gaping drop in healthy energy coming from the Sisters of Mercy Academy!"

"That's Zakuro's school," Minako observed, but Makoto was already a dash ahead of her, brown hair undulating like a drifting wave.

* * *

Minako arrived on the heels of her long-legged friend, bracing herself with hands on knees and looking at their surroundings. The quiet and empty schoolyard gaped open before them ominously. Luna, who had halted just beyond the gate entrance, twitched her ears, listening.

"Maybe everyone's inside . . ." suggested Makoto

"Strange," Luna said. "All schools have some sort of security measure, but we were able to walk right in without any trouble."

"Hey, Min – " Makoto turned to address her friend. The blonde, however, was already opening one of the heavy front doors and peeking her head inside. She looked left and right, then back out and motioned blatantly to the others to follow her.

The hallway was dark and cool when they entered, echoing the sound of their shoes on polished tiles. Squares of hazy light cut along the wall through the window-glass, and doors marched along the opposite side of the corridor. The building was an old-fashioned colonial model, shaped like a square with a courtyard in the middle. The classrooms themselves drifted to the outer perimeter of the building.

"Hello!" Minako moved again with panther reflexes.

Luna and Makoto's heads snapped after her.

Minako trailed a small child walking away from them down the hallway; he had been so quiet and unobtrusive that they hadn't noticed him until now.

As Minako caught up to him, the child made no indication or acknowledgement of their presence. She made a deft cut in front to intercept him.

"Excuse me," she bent low, placing a hand on each small shoulder, "can you point us in the direction of the administrative offices?"

A blank gaze met her inquiry.

Minako tried again, shaking the boy gently. "Hey, are you all right?"

The boy looked through her, not at her, when he said, "Fine. I have to get back to work now."

Minako raised an eyebrow. "_How_ _old_ are you?"

The child blinked at her.

Minako sighed. "Just . . . the administrative office, please?"

"Is there a problem here?" In the deep part of the corridor, out of reach of the sunlight-squares, a woman smiled primly.

Minako let go, and the little boy continued, a clockwork soldier making his rounds.

"No problem," Makoto said, coming to stand next to Minako defensively. "We just wanted to speak with someone in administration. We have a friend who attends this school and were concerned about the security." Mako gestured toward the door. "We came right in. There's no guard or anything."

"That's because everyone is working on far more important things," the woman said, adjusting the glasses perched on her nose bridge.

Minako and Makoto exchanged wary glances.

"Like what?" prodded Minako.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the woman said politely, though her voice was dripping with intimidation.

Makoto touched her friend's back and nodded firmly. The two looked once more at the uptight woman, meeting her gaze head on. Then they turned back in the direction they had come and swung through the heavy doors out into the sunlight.

Minako shielded her eyes and squinted. "Something strange," she murmured.

"Hey," Makoto stopped her with a grasp on her upper arm. "Where's Luna?"

* * *

The tiny black cat peered through the crack in the open door of the classroom. Inside, she could see bodies hunched over desks. The teacher was sitting at her own table, distracted with some unknown occupation. Luna slid through the opening in the door with a seal-skin slickness, hunching her back and tightening her belly, so that she touched neither the door nor post, and seemed hardly to have entered at all.

She padded inaudibly between the rows of desks. There was a stifling sleepiness in the air, like the thick humidity after a summer thunderstorm. She glanced up at the students, who were oblivious to her presence; they were so concentrated on their work.

Luna sat and studied one boy and put a paw to his leg. He didn't move. When she stretched upward, balanced on a chair leg to get a better peak at him, she was startled to see that he had collapsed forward, eyes glazed over and comatose.

She leapt backward, and started to look about rapidly. Now she noticed – little by little, the students were dropping, drained of all energy and will of their own.

There was a sudden scrape, startling her fur straight up. She swerved around to detect the source of the noise.

Just in front and to the left of her, a girl stood, tossing her head this way and that, looking about to panic.

"What is . . . going on?" It was a small plea.

"Zakuro!"

The girl started and twirled. "Who's there?"

But before Luna could say anything, the heavy door thrashed open, knocking against the wall in a evil thud.

"Why aren't you studying, my dear?"

The tight-coifed woman with glasses and pencil skirt stood in the doorway; eyes narrow, unsmiling.

"I – Higa-sensei! There's something wrong with everyone! I think they're sick."

"Now, now." Higa-sensei's mouth curved into a lopsided grin. She came into the room, but the class's teacher made no motion to greet or scold her. "Where's your pencil?"

Zakuro looked at her, mouth slack, breathing shakily. Fear seized her heart then, like frostbite clenching a flower. Her brows slated upward, trembling.

"I said," the woman repeated, mouth curling too-much-to-be-natural, pupils dilating like one in darkness, "where – is – your – pencil!"

The moment passed, taught as string. Then it snapped.

Zakuro made a leap forward toward the woman, but she didn't attack her. Instead, she enlisted the aid of a vacant chair, pushing with all her might, so that the object slid across the slick floor and banged Higa-sensei in the fragile kneecaps.

Zakuro ran for the opening left by Higa's bent and writhing frame, just dodging the now-convulsing woman's long-armed grasp.

Higa-sensei, dark and formless, slumped around and made after her.

Luna broke into a run.

"You'll never learn anything by running away!" the woman shouted. But she was no longer human, and in her place stood a monstrous sized female banshee, with sickly-purple skin, fangs, bulging eyeballs, and shreds of what once been a stylish and pressed suit.

Zakuro screamed.

In a blind terror, she flung herself into a soft, animate object. She toppled backward, landing roughly on the floor.

She looked up into the sunshine face of a beautiful woman. She was crowned and adorned with gems and dressed in what appeared to be a modified, sturdier version of a figure skating costume.

"Zakuro?"

The child blinked up at the woman, having momentarily forgotten her peril.

Another beautiful woman, much taller than the first yet dressed in similar attire, picked up Zakuro roughly and shoved her behind the barrier of her outstretched arms. "That is one, ugly . .. what is it?"

"Hm, hm," the teacher-creature scorned, baring her claws. "What have we here? A couple of liberal-minded hippies trying to ruin a reliable educational system?"

"I don't know about that," the tall warrior grinned, "but I do know that school's hell enough as it is without psychos like you trying to drain all the fun out of everything." She threw her arm forward and pointed menacingly at the ugly being. "I am Sailor Jupiter, pretty soldier of protection, and I cannot allow you to torment innocent schoolchildren for the sake of _education_."

"Nice one." The blonde warrior sniggered. At a glare from her companion, she quickly cleared her throat and added, "And I am Sailor Venus, arbiter of love and justice. In the name of Venus, you're about to get a lesson in _manners_!"

Jupiter was about to comment on Venus's hypocrisy regarding less-than-fearsome speeches, but the teacher-creature interrupted by throwing a shower of devilishly pointed tacks in their direction.

Jupiter grabbed Zakuro and dodged right, while Venus maneuvered left. She came up facing the enemy and steadied her hand for an attack. "Venus-Love-Me-Chain!" she cried. A glowing hot chain flew toward the creature and wrapped its searing length around her torso.

The monster cried out.

Jupiter set Zakuro down on her feet and turned to face the ailing monster.

"Jupiter Oak Evolution!"

The monster fell backward, slamming into the tiled floor of the corridor, and sending a crack along the walls.

Jupiter relaxed her fighting stance and started to turn to question Zakuro, when a long, flat stick slapped her across the knees and sent her reeling onto the ground. Jupite's weight came pounding down onto her elbow.

"No!" Zakuro and Venus yelled simultaneously.

The teacher-creature had flown up and forward in a mad, adrenaline-driven rage, brandishing what looked like an oversized ruler. It was silly-looking but powerful.

"Take that for your insubordination," her teeth glinted, and she lifted the ruler once more to strike the prone and hurting Sailor Jupiter.

However, an arrow of fire cut through the air and embedded itself in the back of the creature's chest. She let out a bestial moan and fell forward. The arrow flamed momentarily, crackling but not burning, then presently faded and disappeared into smoke.

Zakuro stared. Two more beautiful warriors stood, showered in light. The one in red with raven locks still held her bow taut. The second, farther back, clicked maddeningly at a small compact computer, short hair bobbing beneath her ears.

"Sailor Mars! Mercury!" Venus cried. She then jolted toward the fallen Sailor Jupiter and grasped her by the arms. "Are you all right?"

Jupiter exhaled heavily. "Yes, I'll be fine. Stupid, stupid. I shouldn't have let my guard down."

"Nonsense," Venus smiled warmly, trying not to tear up, "you were wonderful."

"Good timing, Mars, Mercury."

It was Luna. She sped lowly across the floor and went to Sailor Jupiter's side; licked her arm comfortingly. "I didn't think the situation would escalate so fast. Or I wouldn't have sent you two in alone without your teammates."

Zakuro's eyes widened, still sheltered behind the towering torso of Sailor Jupiter. So the Usagi-baka was serious when she'd stated her cat verbally nagged her.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." An echoing click resonated in the empty hallway. It came from the opposite end of the corridor from where the monster launched her attack. A senshi-suited woman strode forward. She was graceful and pretty, but her eyes were harsh and glinting, like gemstones.

Zakuro stared.

"One, two, three, four . . ." the senshi counted. "Wait a minute, there's one of you missing."

Zakuro swung her head around, pigtails swishing. She could see the slightly pained and perturbed looks on the faces of the warriors. Then she remembered Sailor Moon.

Usagi. Sailor Moon was not here.

"Imposter!" Sailor Jupiter cried angrily, now rising flimsily in attempt to confront the fuku blue senshi.

Nami sighed. "I told you before," she said, a tone like an adult speaking to a child, "I'm not an imposter. I _am_ Sailor Mercury."

"If you say you're Sailor Mercury," now the pixie-haired senshi moved forward valiantly, while the others looked on in discomfort, "then explain your actions. No soldier sworn to protect would let loose that crazy monster in a school, around children!"

Nami lifted her hands, palms upward, and shook her head back and forth. "That monster was awakened by your meddling," she explained. "I've told you before; you're to _stay out_ of this. You'll only cause more trouble for everyone."

"To hell with that!" Jupiter shouted.

"I'll tell you what," Nami said, starting to back up into the darkness of the school corridor. "You got me. I'll call off my host." She lifted her hand, and a bluish mark glowed on the back ankle of the fallen monster. The insignia of Mercury faded away, and with it, the monstrous caricature of a woman seemed to melt from the creature's flesh. Only Higa-sensei remained.

Nami looked each of them in the eye meaningfully. "This time."

She lifted her arm and was gone in a swirl of cerulean water.

* * *

"Usagi! Usagi-chan!" Minako slammed the apartment door upon entering and fussed about, making as much noise as a marching band.

Somewhere in the dark depths of twisted covers, Usagi started and sat up. "Eh?"

"Usagi!"

"Wah!" She leapt up and ran trippingly through the door of her bedroom and into the small hallway, nearly running head-on with her blond counterpart.

"Where were you?" Minako asked crossly.

"I – me? What?" She looked disoriented. "I mean, I missed my class! Oh, no!" she slapped her forehead. "I must have slept through everything!"

"Through everything, all right," Minako said, crossing her arms and shaking her head. "Unbelieveable."

"Oh, I hope I can get the homework from Naru."

"We had another encounter with that woman."

"What woman?" Usagi pursed her lips. "The one at the sandwich shop who was obsessive-compulsive about the lettuce?"

Minako's shoulders sagged and she sighed dramatically. "_No_, Usa-chan, the imposter senshi woman . . . who calls herself Sailor Mercury."

"What?" Usagi tumbled on Minako's heels as she made her way back into the living room and dropped onto the couch, amidst a cloud of newly acquired costumes and clothing.

Usagi stood in front of her and watched intently. "How did Ami-chan handle it?"

"As well as to be expected." Minako put a palm to her abdomen, where a discomforting flip was gathering gradually. "It was at Zakuro's school. She was targeting children."

Usagi slumped onto the couch next to Minako. "That's awful."

Minako nodded. "She possessed this woman . . . a teacher, I think – to do her bidding. Something like a droid, or a – "

"Phage?"

Minako shook her head. "She called her a _host_, though. And she said that before, about the woman in the sweets shop."

Usagi put a finger to her chin and pondered. "So what happened? Afterward, I mean, with Zakuro and the other children?"

"Rei-chan went ahead and took Zakuro home early. The entire school sort of 'woke up' after that, all groggy. Not sure of what had happened. Ami-chan infomred someone to call the ambulance for the host-teacher. She's pretty sure she'll be okay. Just suffering from stress and a case of short-term amnesia, they say."

Usagi's mouth opened slightly in interest.

"Anyways," Minako continued, "Luna said she tried to reach you on your communicator."

Usagi shifted uncomfortably. "Oh, that . . .."

"Do you even know where it is?"

"It's somewhere . . .."

Minako shot up suddenly, arms straightening and clamping onto Usagi's unsuspecting, neatly folded hands.

Usagi flinched and nearly went cross-eyed.

"Usagi-chan! I saw you today! You were with Demando!"

Usa relaxed. Then tensed. "Oh?"

Minako's eyes narrowed and she gave her friend a sideways, minxy stare. "I saw him kiss you . . .!"

"_What_?"

"Makoto too!"

"Were you two _spying_ on me?"

Minako put the back of her hand to her mouth and giggled silently.

"I swear to goodness, Aino Minako, if you tell anyone – "

But Minako was already off, flitting across the living room toward the corridor. She clutched a large shopping bag full of new-scented garments.

"Terms of negotiation to be discussed later!" she cried, tossing her hand like a _prima donna_.


	5. Episode 4

_Author's Note_: In order to address some relevant questions, I'd like to share a review response.

_Thank you for reading. A lot of people have trouble with the very BIG obstacle of me yanking Demando into my stories for the sake of possible romance. If it helps, I think of him as the anime version, the one who sacrificed his life to protect Sailor Moon, not the one who tried to kill her. Big difference. -;;_

_I do feel that I have a better motivation for it than a simple fangirl appreciation of his bad-boy good looks. When I first watched Saior Moon R and the Black Moon clan appeared as the enemies, I was absolutely taken with the mystery of the people who had black concave moon insignias on their foreheads. I'm utterly enchanted by the whole yin-yang/perfect opposite archetype. It makes for some really interesting plot bunnies. Then when I was introduced to Demando (Dimande, Diamond) for the first time, well, it was love at first sight (as a fangirl who likes pretty boys and intriguing characters, kekeke). Let's just say Demando's part in the story is much greater than that of a simple Usagi-admirer. He holds his own, that's for sure._

_Thanks for letting me know about Makoto and Minako. Characterizations are really important to me, and I actually did some internet research to refresh my memory for this story. I want to stay true to the characters we all know and love._

_That being said, I would expect some very minor changes in characterization, for the simple reason that our heroines have aged since we last saw them. Even in the StarS season, Usagi was starting to show some sobriety and maturity, so I let her keep that - not that she's no longer our endearing airhead klutz but that she tends to have moments of clairty a bit more frequently. -;_

_And thanks for noticing the "monster-of-the-day" trend. I'm enjoying them, myself!_

_Lastly, I don't write my stories with set pairings for the endings because for me, plot comes before shipping. So stay tuned for romance drama. Mamoru hasn't even come back yet. Oh yes. I'm bringing him into this!_

Also, in response to another reviewer's question, I tend to throw in any random attacks of the senshi's. That is an artistic choice, for the mere sake of variety. In this story, we're going to pretend the senshi keep all attacks, old and new.

Suki

* * *

**Episode IV **

**/ Minako's Idol /**

* * *

Fingers disturbed the surface of cool water, trembling outwards in rings and lapping upon stone.

"They'd already tainted the operation. I thought it best to call it off."

Ai lifted her fingers and flicked off dewy drops of water. She rose from her perch on the side of the courtyard fountain, to better address her companion.

"How so?"

"They were interfering with my host." Nami crossed her arms and looked down in reserved frustration.

Ai moved gracefully around her and glided across the cobbled yard, but her stroll had no discreet direction. "You need to note these things." She sighed. "I don't like you involving so many innocents, Nami-chan. As I told you before."

"No one was hurt," Nami said, raising her hands in an attempt to absolve herself.

"That's not the point. You need to find a less hands-on way to attract the pomegranate girl . . . something pervasive yet non-physical."

Nami re-crossed her arms and shook her head, eyes upward. "What could be so pervasive and simultaneously abstract that can reach one out of thousands?"

Ai swiveled her torso sharply, so that she was partially turned, like a posing dancer. An amused smile crossed her lips.

"Think about it."

* * *

Beams stabbed through the cloudy sky, setting alternating patterns of light and shadow across the temple steps. There was a cool breeze, and the two young women, who were wrestling up the stairs, wore long sleeves and close-toed shoes.

Usagi strengthened her grasp on Minako's wrist. Minako in turn let her weight fall forward as much as she dared, in order to loosen the other's hold. But Usagi was not about to give up easily, and she reinforced her grasp with a second hand.

Minako managed to slip under Usagi's arm like a dance partner, twisting Usagi's torso in the process and forcing her to let go to avoid flipping.

"Minako-chan, dooonnn't!" Usagi cried, immediately renewing her grasp on the blonde's appendage.

"Mm, mm, mm," Minako made a smug face and continued to climb onward. "I'm going to tell if you don't meet the terms of agreement."

"What agreement?" Usagi said dramatically; but at this sort of game, at least against Minako, she was quite outmatched. "I never agreed to anything."

"Then gossip it is!"

"Fine!" Usagi threw her hands up, the sudden lapse of pressure causing Minako to teeter on the edge of a stair. "I'll do whatever you want. Just don't tell the others – especially Rei-chan – about Demando giving me a kiss!" She put a hand to the side of her mouth and lowered her head as if spying ears hid in the looming trees. "She'll jump to all sorts of conclusions and blow it out of proportion. Besides," she exclaimed, all efforts at discreetness dissipating, "he was just being polite, and . . . and it wasn't like that. You wouldn't understand at all." She ended in a pouting, slouched posture.

Minako raised an eyebrow disbelievingly.

"Minako!"

"All right," she smiled largely, so that her cheeks rose up, nearly squishing her eyes closed. "Here." She lifted a large knapsack and held it forward to Usagi. "You get to carry this up to the shrine."

Dropping the item into Usagi's less-than-eager hands, she trotted up the remaining stairs, light as the breeze that came drifting eastward.

* * *

Zakuro sat absently on the balcony over-looking the dappled streets. She had her legs through the bars, shoeless, so that they could air out in the springy coolness. She swung them like alternating pendulums, and gazed out in the distance at nothing in particular.

"I think she needs a friend," Beruche said from where she watched her at her place in the living room.

"I think we should leave her alone," Saffir said coolly. He was reclining on the couch next to Beruche, arms behind his head.

"Don't you think," Beruche mused, fingering the braid crowning her forehead, "that by helping her we might find some answers of our own?"

Saffir seemed to take this in. Then he shrugged. "If she has anything to do with us."

"You know she does!" Beruche leaned toward him for emphasis. "Look at her earrings – my God, look at her face!"

Saffir frowned deeply. "What do you mean?"

Beruche shook her head. Her fire diminished, as if cooled by the sobering wind called doubt. "Never mind. Forget I said it."

At these words, Beruche alit from the couch and walked to the screen door, sliding it open begrudgingly.

Zakuro turned to greet her as she came into the cool outdoors.

"Hey, it's kinda chilly out here. You should put a sweater on."

Zakuro shrugged.

"Did you finish all of your schoolwork?"

She nodded.

"Even the math?"

"Yes. I had Saffir-san help me on the hard ones."

"Well, hey," she said, sitting down cross-legged next to the brooding girl. "Why don't I take you on a fun outing, hm? Do you like video arcades?"

Zakuro raised a single eyebrow.

"No. How about the shopping mall?"

"What do you do there?"

"Oh dear." Beruche put a palm to her temple. What did normal adolescent girls like to do? Find that, then apply it Zakuro . . . not going to be easy.

"I know! There's a really cute fandom store I know, not too far out of the district. It's got all sorts of things – plushies, trading cards, manga, key chains, posters, even anime-themed cooking utensils. There's bound to be something interesting there. Would you like to try it!"

Zakuro looked doubtful, but the warm glow of Beruche's smile caused it to melt. She nodded agreement.

* * *

"Everyone present and accounted for," Artemis stated. He liked to sound put-together and in charge, if he could help it.

"Can't be long, though," Minako said; she stroked him on the back, completely undoing any sense of patronizing dignity Artemis might have worked up. She finished by pulling – _swish!_ – along his tail. "I've got an audition in a little while." She smiled brightly and threw a little wave at Usagi.

Usagi plopped onto the ground, an overgrown knapsack aiding her earthward with gravitational pull.

"What's all that?" Ami asked.

Before Usa could speak, Minako chimed, "Oh, those are all my costume and accessories."

"You bring them to the audition with you?" asked Artemis.

"Yep!" Minako nodded cheerily. "It brings a little something more, an extra kick of enthusiasm to my performance."

"Wow, you think of everything," Luna said, not un-admiringly.

"That's awfully nice of you to carry Minako's things for her," Rei said, eyeing Usagi uncertainly.

The others agreed.

"Why would you be doing that?" Makoto asked, filling in the blanks of the others' un-spoken suspicions.

"Just a little agreement we have," Minako said casually.

"What would that be?" Luna said, whiskers twitching.

"Well – "

"She's doing me a favor!" Usagi finished, slightly flustered, blinking rapidly.

"Blackmail?" Rei smirked mischievously, eyes slanted.

A look like dawn brightened Makoto's face. "Oooohhh. You're trying to keep Minako-chan from – "

"Waa-aaa-aa!!" came the stuttered and forced silencing of the two blondes.

"What?" Makoto looked around. "I was going to say that the other day Minako-chan and I were following – "

"Hush!" cried Usagi.

At the same exact moment, Minako (who was closer) pounced on the tall brunette and slapped a hand to her mouth. "Never mind that," she said, laughing nervously. She wiggled her eyebrows profusely at Makoto, who stuck out her tongue in an attempt to get her to drop her hand.

It worked.

"Keep quiet and you'll get an in," Minako muttered, wiping her slimy palm on her jeans.

Makoto pursed her lips and gave Minako an I-can't-believe-you face. She crossed her arms but remained silent.

Ami, having grown tired of outlandish charades, tapped the ground with her foot and said, "Okay, everyone. This is an official senshi meeting. We can discuss _personal_ matters _later_."

"That's right," Luna agreed. She settled herself front and center so that each individual could easily see her. "There have been three incidents now concerning this strange senshi who claims to be Sailor Mercury." Here she paused, out of respect for the abused Ami before, continuing. "Three might as well be a hundred. This proves to us that this is not going to go away; that the enemy is actively engaged in our area; and that we can look forward to another attack – and soon."

"We'll all need to be on our guard," Artemis said. "That means communicators _on_ and within reach," he added pointedly.

Usagi pretended not to hear him.

"This is it, girls," Luna said. "We've had quite a rest. The senshi are out of retirement. I know it's the last thing we wanted, but it's our responsibility."

"And responsibilities come first," said Artemis.

A swift quiet passed over; but whether it was the wind drowning out sound or a heavier silence was uncertain.

Unspoken in the air, like hollow fruit, were the words if only one had dared to pluck them: no one mentioned they'd never asked for these responsibilities.

* * *

A black-haired man with glasses tapped on the glass to let the woman inside know he was coming in before opening the door.

"Ito-san," he greeted her, bowing politely. "How is your work going? I've received excellent feedback."

She turned. Her waist-long golden hair glimmered as she moved. "I do have to say I'm on fire of late. Now if only you could find the perfect voice actress so that I can work with her." She made an exaggerated sigh. "Then my performance will be at its peak! Character interaction is where I shine!"

"Yes, I'm sure," the producer said, adjusting Ito's microphone and motioning for her to follow him out of the sound room. "We're holding auditions today, actually. We're hoping to land the part by tomorrow."

"Wonderful." Ito smiled brilliantly. "I would like to be present for the auditions, Mr. Producer."

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Ito-san. It might cause the actresses to get nervous . . . you being such a big name in the voice acting field."

Ito smiled a close-toothed smile. "I insist."

The director scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well, if it's that important to you, I suppose an exception – "

"Good," Ito tossed her hand over her shoulder, leaving the black-haired man in her wake. "I'll be in my dressing room until the next take. Oh, and tell them to bring me some bottled water. Not the local kind. I want Swedish glacier-water."

The producer nodded at her retreating form, thick brow twitching.

Ito Keiko cruised down a hallway and through a door marked with a large star. It closed heavily behind her to reveal a dimly lit dressing room, stuffed with costumes, propaganda, photographs, flowers, and fan gifts of all sorts. It didn't help that the recording studio was right across from Super Cherry's collectibles store. They were always shoving their new products on her for promotional purposes.

Ito swept a stray plush animal from her dresser and sat down. She picked up a brush and started powdering her cheekbone when an intolerant voice alerted her to another's presence.

"I'd be worried less about my looks and more about infiltrating the Cherry Productions studios if I were you."

Ito twirled a strand of hair near the base of her neck. "I'm working on it, don't worry."

The owner of the voice was a well-dressed, stylish woman, with sky blue hair tied in a braid at the base of her neck. She had warm brown eyes, and a haughty chin.

She came forward and clacked her hand down onto the dresser impatiently. "Repeat back to me the instructions you were given."

The voice actress sighed, greatly inconvenienced. "Distract the producer and the others while you sabotage the radio and television transmissions. What good will that do?"

Nami narrowed her eyes at the actress's ignorance. "I've developed my own virus that will transmit a unique radio wave with every television and audio program aired from this studio. This studio provides for the entire district, and then some.

"The radio wave is pitched to react to a certain kind of energy. It will bring the pomegranate girl out of hiding, wherever she is right now."

"How can you be so sure your little invention will summon the girl you're looking for?"

Nami glared, "I'm not. But I have to start somewhere." She strolled to the door and opened it slowly. Turned. "And I suggest you concentrate, if you wish to keep the voice-enhancing power that I've lent you."

The door closed ominously behind her.

* * *

"Hurry up, hurry," Minako said eagerly, stopping every few seconds to motion impatiently to the lagging Usagi.

"If you want me to go faster, why don't you carry your stupid things?" Usagi pouted.

"Why? You're doing great," Minako beamed, eliciting no small glare from Usagi.

Minako started walking again, speaking to her as if she weren't five strides behind and counting. "I heard that Ito Keiko has already landed the role of the well-seasoned _shoujo_ lady! But they needed a young, fresh voice to play her co-star. Can you imagine? Working with Ito Keiko for my first gig? What a break!"

"Will there be snacks there?" Usagi asked, posture straightening a bit.

Minako nodded, though Usagi only managed to see the back of her head bobbing. "I'm sure they'll have a spread of all sorts of goodies – rice balls, pepperoni, little sugar dumplings . . .."

Her speech halted in a squeak as an all-too-eager Usagi steamed past her, knocking her in the hip with the huge bag saddled to her waist.

* * *

Zakuro stood in the entrance to Super Cherry, a gargantuan mutation of a store full to brimming with eccentricities of all shapes and colors – from kitchen sinks, to intimates, to stalker-relics from long-gone idols. She blinked derisively at the view of precocious shoppers, who ranged from obscenely-clad teenagers to middle-aged men still sporting acne.

Zakuro turned to comment to Cooan, only to find that the grown woman had immediately clamped onto a stuffed, over-sized raptor.

"It's sooo cute!" she squealed.

Zakuro stepped back a little, as if to maintain balance. "If your idea of a house pet is Godzilla," she muttered..

Beruche had graciously arranged for Cooan and Zakuro to have a girls' outing, as she was landed at the last minute with shop-keeping duty by the debt-seeker Calaveras (the elder had loaned her a beloved pair of shoes and had insisted that Beruche should owe her when the time came).

"Oh my gosh!" Cooan let go her iron hold of the giant doll. "Look at these adorable shorts!" She bulldozed her way through a pile of stuffed animals to a clearance clothes rack, removing a pair of frilly daisy dukes. "These would look so cute with the blouse I bought from Megumi's last weekend!" She lifted the shorts and waved them in Zakuro's direction for emphasis. "Beruche sniffed at me, saying that I'd never find anything to go with it and that it made me look sleazy. But I know her game. She was just jealous they didn't carry her size and didn't want me to have it if she couldn't!"

Zakuro tilted her head a little, observing. People here were _craaazy_.

Cooan continued to gurgle, masses of inky curls clouding about her, but something bright caught Zakuro's eye. She moved forward slowly and put out her hand to meet soft fabric. It was a humanoid plushie, about the size of her torso, decked in blue and red, a pleated skirt, and silky bows, with felt-yellow hair and a cat-eyed mask.

"Sailor Moon . . ." she murmured.

"Sailor V!"

The obnoxious outburst nearly sent Zakuro flying from fright, but she moved aside, narrowly dodging a golden blur with odangos.

"Usagi-chan?"

"Sailor V! Sailor V! Look, Minako-chan, it's on clearance!"

"I see that, Usagi-chan! Come on, we can shop on the way out. I have to make my voice acting audition."

Zakuro tugged unceremoniously on the odangoed one's sleeve.

"Hm?" Usagi looked down blinking, seemingly unfazed by the sudden appearance of her young friend.

"What is that?"

"It's Sailor V, the champion of love and justice. Of course!" She put balled fists to her mouth and hopped a little.

Zakuro thought it made her look like a tea kettle about to whistle.

"Hey, Zakuro-chan. I didn't know you were into this kind of fandom."

Zakuro started to open her mouth to reply, then thought better of it and remained silent.

"Come on, Usagi! And bring my bag that you just dropped on the floor."

"All right, all right." Usagi turned to Zakuro, saying pleasantly. "I'm going to Minako's voice audition. Would you like to come?"

Zakuro gestured hesitatingly in the direction where Cooan had been. "Well, I came with . . ." She stopped to find the area empty. Then she saw the woman in question in the opposite direction, flicking a sleeve of shiny bangles on her arm.

Zakuro sighed, pointing defeatedly. "Her," she finished.

Usagi's eyes bugged out, her posture straightened, toes stiffened, and she was taut like an arrow, waving franticly in Cooan's direction.

Cooan saw her and dropped her glittering toys to come forward and greet her friend.

"Come with me and Minako to her audition," Usagi proposed, before Cooan could offer so much as a how-do-you-do. "There's going to be food there," she added, as if this bit of information should seal the arrangement.

Cooan looked at Usagi uncertainly. "Mm, I don't know. You see, I agreed to take Zakuro to Super Cherry, since she finished all of her homework. I mean, I don't want to change plans on her." Here, she looked kindly down on the girl.

Zakuro's eyes widened a little, but she tried to control her features by looking casual. "Oh. I don't mind."

"You don't? But you haven't even gotten to look around . . .."

"Let's go with Minako-chan," Zakuro smiled forcefully. "It'd be nice to give her our support."

"Oh," Cooan said, wide-eyed. But then she smiled in affirmation. "All right. Sounds fun."

Minako (who had disappeared briefly to make sure Cherry Studios was in the same location since she entered two minutes ago) poked her head in at that moment between Zakuro and Usagi.

"What's fun?"

"Going to the voice auditions with you, silly," Usagi said, grabbing her friend's arm and leading her toward the door before Minako could fully protest.

* * *

"So, why are you carrying Minako's things for her?" Cooan said quietly into Usagi's ear.

They were on the third floor of Cherry Studios, sitting on the stiff chairs of a small, crammed waiting room. There were only two windows, both in the further wall, and they let in trickling, flimsy light through their long, thin faces.

There was nothing edible to be found.

Whenever Usagi tired to mention this distasteful fact to Minako – now decked in full-on lolita costume, complete with corset, buckles, and knee-high leather boots – she shushed her roughly and returned her concentration to a small booklet, from which she recited nonsensical soliloquies.

So Cooan and Usagi took to talking between themselves.

"It's a silly story," Usagi said, laughing nervously. "I just agreed to help her, that's all."

"Nice of you," Cooan said solemnly. "If one of my sisters asked me to carry her things for her, I'd probably laugh and tell her to get a butler."

Usagi smiled, a little tightly, and folded her hands over Minako's large knapsack.

A wedge of light brightened her knuckle.

It called to Zakuro, who was sitting between Usagi and Cooan. She put her fingers out tentatively to touch the source of light, and found it to be a ring – a pretty, pink, heart-shaped gem of no small size and quality.

"Oh, you like my ring?" Usagi gave her hand to Zakuro so she could get a better look.

"It's beautiful," Zakuro said quietly. She held the woman's hand in her two open palms, cradling it like a baby sparrow; then looked intently into Usagi's face. "Did someone give it to you?"

"Yes," she replied; quietly, solemnly. "Someone very special."

The gem's iridescence seemed to catch in Zakuro's eyes. They glowed brightly.

Cooan leaned forward, peering around the fair-headed child in interest. "Was it Chiba-san?"

Usagi nodded, a trickle of pride warming her features.

Zakuro's eyes flickered from Usa's face to Cooan's and back again. "Who's that?" she asked tersely.

"He's my – well, he's my fiancé."

Zakuro sat back into her chair, instantly. An iron rod replaced her limber spinal cord.

The two women on either side of her cooed and murmured happily in feminine tones.

"Well, he hasn't officially asked me to marry him," Usagi confided. "He has to finish his studies overseas, you see."

Zakuro felt a strange heat along the back of her neck, with an undercurrent of iciness made dreadfully uncomfortable. The thought of anyone other than an employee of Black Moon Jewelers' giving Usagi a ring made her feel oddly jealous and betrayed. Had she been more amendable to the idea, she might have climbed over this initial reaction and tried to investigate its source and reasoning.

Instead, she decided she was angry and crossed her arms, determined not to speak – especially to Usagi – any more today.

Just then, the waiting room door announced its presence, opening loudly. A black-haired man with glasses held out a clipboard, studying it foggily. "Aino . . . Minako?" he asked, uncertain of his own voice.

Next to Usagi, Minako jumped. "Present!" she cried.

The man scratched his temple sheepishly. "Uh, Aino-san. You don't have to say 'present.' Just come with me, please."

Minako bowed sharply as her friends rose.

"And are we all Aino Minako?" the producer asked, eyebrow rising as the group approached.

"These are my friends," Minako replied, smilingly. "They've come to see me audition and give me support with their warmth and love!"

The producer tapped his clipboard, blushing a little. Pretty girls always did him in. "Well, all right then.

"But keep to yourselves. This is not a field trip," he added, eyeing Zakuro suspiciously.

Zakuro narrowed her eyes and stuck her tongue at him, but the director was already through the door and down hallway.

* * *

The producer led the party into a small, posh sitting room, complete with eighteenth-century imitation furniture, plush rugs, a cigar box, and potpourri. There was also a pretty spread of delicacies on a dark cherry wood table against one wall.

Usagi eyed these hungrily.

"Help yourselves to some refreshments," the director said. He settled himself into a silken couch next to two other figures – a woman and a man.

To the man, he gestured, introducing, "This is the director for our _Vampire Twilight_, Hamada-san. And this," here he turned respectfully to the woman in question, "is as you probably know Ito Keiko, the voice actress cast for the character Scarlet, the vampire vixen who acts as mentor to the naive heroine."

Ito tossed her golden hair behind her shoulders, flashing a white-toothed smile. "I must say, Aino-san. You really come dressed the part."

Minako perched on the twin couch across from them. "I'm very eager about this role," she beamed. "And let me just say it is an honor to meet you, Ito-sama," she leaned forward, eyes sparkling.

Ito smiled automatically and replied, "Thank you, Aino-san. I look forward to hearing your audition, I'm sure."

The producer made a throaty noise at that moment, sending everyone's attention toward the two figures bustling noisily around the refreshments.

Usagi, mouth stuffed, was the first to sense the quiet, and swiveled around to meet the gawkers with an apologetic, close-lipped smile. Zakuro, however, was still fussing childishly over an éclair, which Usagi soon remedied with a swift yet harmless slap to the girl's hand.

Zakuro started to glare evilly at her elder but soon became aware of the multitudes of eyes alighting on her.

"Um," the producer smiled sardonically. "May I ask you two ladies to have a seat over here? We'd like to begin the audition now."

Usagi and Zakuro half-walked, half-shoved their way over to the loveseat against the further wall and furrowed their way in next to Cooan.

"Now," the director said, opening a script and smoothing out the page.

The three others mimicked his actions.

"Let's have you read for the scene where Rose is confronting Scarlet about her new vampire nature. I want to hear your interaction with Ito, Aino-san."

* * *

In the depths of the Cherry Studios recording center, the business-suited Nami strutted casually, flitting by security without eliciting so much as a glance from them.

She paused and leaned against the wall next to a door labeled "Channel 3F." A bright sign was lit overhead, little green lights forming the anglicized words "On Air."

Nami waited for a stroller to pass by in the hallway and turned the corner. She then opened the door and entered. The recoding room was small with bright blinking buttons and many audio apparatuses, conjuring black, electrical hydras. A balding man sat with his back to the entrance, headphones curving along his hairless scalp, sliding switches up and down on the control board.

Nami approached him casually and placed a single finger along the back of his neck, where his spine met his skull. A shuddering sound crackled and echoed, and the man tensed then locked up completely, as if his joints had been frozen solid.

After this, it took no effort for Nami to poke him sideways, and he fell helplessly and harmlessly to the floor. She seated herself in his chair. She produced a thin, square object from her pocket and opened this to reveal a blank, silver compact disk. She slipped her ring finger through the hole of the CD, lifted it and pressed a button with her forefinger, nimbly placing the CD in the open-mouthed slot in one swift movement, like an ocean tide.

The lights of the soundboard twinkled red and yellow. Nami flipped a few switches.

* * *

A deep and earthy pulse burst from the room. It ran tremulously through the entire building then was gone.

Minako stopped mid-sentence to clutch her chest where she felt a deep vibration. The others, it appeared, had also felt the sensation, for everyone drew still and quiet, holding their sternums as if slightly out of breath.

Only Ito-san remained unshaken, flicking the pages of her script impatiently and smiling wanly at Minako. "Go on . . .? You left off at 'for my own good,' Aino-san."

"Uh, yes, thank you." Minako lowered her eyes to her script but found it hard to plunge back into character. Her nerves were blaring warningly. Out of the corner of her eye she glanced at her friends.

Usagi, too, seemed uneasy, looking about her like a cat that'd just been shaken and dropped on her feet again.

Cooan rubbed her temples slowly.

And Zakuro –

Minako's spine stiffened.

Zakuro sat nestled between Usagi and Cooan in the tight loveseat, head dropping. She was making little struggling attempts to lift her skull on her neck, which appeared to have increased dramatically in weight so that it took a great deal of effort. In the split-second between Zakuro's effort and subsequent failure to keep her head up, Minako caught a glimpse of her eyes. They were eerie and glazed, as if covered by translucent sheets of wax. Almost sickly.

"Aino-san?" Ito was polite but no longer smiling.

"I . . . h-have to use the bathroom," she stuttered.

"Right now?"

"Yes!"

Ito looked to the producer and director for help but they were docile as animals, hazy-eyed and sleepy.

Minako stood sharply, script flapping to the floor. "Usagi-chan, Cooan-chan, bring Zakuro and please come with me!"

Ito glared.

"But I don't need to," Usagi managed to protest before the electrified Minako pinched the back of her elbow – so hotly that Usagi went pale, too shocked to cry out. Minako clasped Usagi and Zakuro to her with either arm, and Cooan followed behind, trying not to be the last out of the sitting room, and failing.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Minako scooped up Zakuro, held Usagi's arm and started to run.

"What's – going – on?" Usagi huffed, out of breath but gaining composure.

Minako made a sharp right turn and shoved through a heavy door that lead into a stairwell. She pushed Zakuro into Cooan's arms and said abruptly, "Take her home."

Cooan nodded. She dashed away almost immediately.

Minako put her hands on Usagi's shoulders; she looked her directly in the eyes.

"Call the Sailor Senshi."

* * *

Nami leaned back in her swivel chair and enjoyed the view. The play list for the next half an hour was already implemented, only now there was an extra vibration sifting through the music, reaching the ears of all those listening and most everyone within the vicinity of the Tokyo district.

The door opened and Nami turned.

It was Ito-san, glaring darkly.

"What are you doing here?" she fumed. "You're supposed to be keeping a lookout."

"Your mission is interfering with my auditions."

"I'm well aware of that," Nami spat. "Now get back in there and make sure that no one comes or goes."

Ito's mouth went slack, and she was contemplating whether or not to tell her mistress about the affected child. But she clamped her jaw shut, turned abruptly, and slammed the door to the recording room

"It's her, all right."

Ito started. Before her were two smallish women, eerily adorned, but beautiful all the same. Their features were so familiar. Yet before she had time to register this recognition, the smaller of the two pointed threateningly at her.

"Just what's going on here? We know that you're up to something foul, Ito Keiko. We can sense it."

"I can sense it," the taller added aside.

"Venus can sense it!" the short one corrected.

Ito looked bewildered. Then her brows furrowed into a snarl. "Who the hell are you? Do you _know_ who I am?"

The short blond blinked. "Yeees. I just said your name, didn't I?" She looked at her companion for confirmation. "Didn't I?"

Venus shook off the question and stepped toward Ito. "She's in there, isn't she?"

"Who?"

"That woman."

Ito said nothing. But when Venus made to walk around her to the door, she pushed with an animal force, flinging the unsuspecting warrior against the further wall.

Sailor Moon tensed. "You don't want to go against us," she said, almost pleadingly.

"Oh, I think that it is _you_ who do not wish to go against _me_," Ito hissed.

"Back down!" shouted the orange-clad Venus, now firmly on guard.

"Not likely!"

Ito's gorgeous strands began to levitate about her body in an sickly blue glow. Her mouth widened and curved upwards around as-of-yet unrevealed fangs. Her eyes seemed to sink deep into her skull. Her lovely curves shriveled against her bones revealing taut and harsh muscle strands beneath once-soft skin.

"And I don't appreciate being spoken to like that," she added, voice barely recognizable.

She growled then and flew at Venus, who caught her outstretched claw nimbly in her hands and used the momentum of her misshaped form to fling her a yard down the corridor. "This one's weak. Finish her off, Sailor Moon," Venus said flinging her love-me-chain around the evil idol's torso.

The creature tried to rise, but Venus swept her chain backward, glowing iridescently, and the thing that had been Ito crashed back-down onto the floor.

The evil idol screeched then. It was no human sound, or even animal. It was sheer noise, inanimate, primordial, and awful. Her shriek reverberated around the building, shaking the entirety of Cherry Studios to its foundations.

Venus dropped her hold to clamp her palms, vice-like, against her ears. Sailor Moon did likewise.

"Agh! She's going to bring down the whole building!" Venus tossed her head in agony.

"Not if I can help it!"

Sailor Mars pummeled the shrieking creature with a Burning Mandala. The attack silenced its cries into a muffled moan.

Sailor Jupiter added to this a repertoire of electric jolts, shocking the creature before it had any time to recover.

The visor around Sailor Mercury's eyes was just sliding closed. "Aim for her throat," she instructed, calmly yet firmly. "That's where her insignia is located and the source of her power."

Sailor Moon, who had already called her Tiare forth from the mists, swung it high over her head in deep concentration. "Starlight Honeymoon Therapy Kiss!"

The healing energy pulsed toward the evil idol. She stumbled upward in a last attempt to fight, meeting the light head-on. But the brightness enveloped her and her voice came out once more, this time a dying and translucent thing.

The idol monster slumped on her knees, head tilting backward to reveal a glowing blue insignia on her throat. The sign of Mercury burned then faded away, dropping the defeated Ito Keiko lifelessly on the ground with its departure.

"Something's still wrong," Sailor Mars said quietly, disturbing the after-battle lull. She put her fingers to her head and shut her eyes tightly.

"That would be my radio waves you're sensing."

The senshi started. In the gaping doorway of the recording room, the self-proclaimed Sailor Mercury scowled, arms crossed, eyes daggers.

"Just what's your game?" Sailor Venus queried.

"No game," Nami said.

"Undo it. Now." Sailor Mercury was livid; but the emotion only manifested itself in a slight dark leaking from her eyes.

Nami moved slowly then, though her actions were clear.

She took a fighting stance. Her arms at right angles shielded her body; her legs shifted and widened for balance.

No one spoke.

The others, as if on cue, fell silently into battle positions and waited.

"Shine Aqua Illusion!"

The attack cry shattered the brooding silence, followed directly by a blast of rushing water.

This Nami countered with a cry and a blast of her own: "Mercury Spiral Fountain!"

A twisting length of liquid propelled from her open palms, splattering into Sailor Mercury's own water, and sending a shimmering spray of harmless drops sprinkling the empty corridor.

Nami lowered her head, but her eyes stayed fixed on her opponent, lending a slight mania to her steady glare.

Lowly. Dangerously. "Don't. Interfere."

Mercury's breath sucked in swiftly.

The others briefly paused, taking in this new development.

But it did not last long, as an enraged and steaming Sailor Jupiter sent a blast of thundering energy into the floor.

Nami shifted to counter this attack when a hot beam penetrated her flank. She stumbled back painfully from Venus's strike before experiencing the awesome, teeth-shattering jolt of Oak Evolution.

Nami nearly fell but caught herself, balancing dangerously on her heeled feet. The wind knocked out of her, she sat half-standing, half-crouching, suspended for thirty seconds.

She closed her eyes, as if centering herself. Then rised slowly, carefully, arms stretched for balance.

"I can see that I'm outnumbered here. I think this mission is for another day."

She pulled a long trickle of water out of her fingertips, from her waist to well above her head. The trickle spread wide and became a trembling sheet that presently circled and enveloped her, swallowing her in its depths.

It left rather breathless team of senshi beyond its shimmering remains.

* * *

Zakuro flinched, legs and arms jolting. She thought she was falling, with no solid object around her.

Then her senses returned and she could feel the softness of Beruche's bed.

Her limbs were very heavy.

Placing a small palm to her eye and rubbing steadily, she tried to recall what had happened.

She was with Minako and the others when a blackness seeped into her, like a dulling anesthesia. She recalled that she had dreamed of the time before she came to Tokyo, to the Black Moon Clan, but of what particularly she could not now summon from memory.

A low, inanimate moan wavered from the door, followed by a soft click as it closed again.

A tall shadowed figure came to her bedside. As Zakuro's eyes adjusted to the dimness, she saw Demando's bright eyes in the gloom. He sat slowly on the edge of the bed and looked at her steadily without speaking.

Then he said softly, like a breath of air. "How are you feeling?"

Zakuro fidgeted under the thick comforter. She shifted on her side and tucked her right arm beneath her head for support. She said nothing but simply looked at him.

He nodded vaguely then, and Zakuro understood him to be respecting her wish to keep her own counsel.

He shifted as if to stand, but Zakuro stopped him with a touch to his shirt sleeve.

"Demando-sama?"

He faced her again.

"Who is Sailor Moon?"

The man made no visible change, but the air around him seemed to cool and solidify.

"Sailor Moon is . . . our protector."

Zakuro gazed into his face, testing for honesty in the way only a child can do.

She settled, satisfied. Her eyelashes fluttered sleepily.

"I thought so," she murmured.

Her mind drifted into pillowy darkness. But she thought she heard Usagi's name whispered, in Demando's hushed, earthy voice.

* * *

Usagi sat on her bed in the waning light facing Luna and speaking in muted tones.

"The auditions were called off, due to Ito-san's sudden illness," Usagi said. "Ami-chan removed the compact disk from the radio transmitter and destroyed it. It was strange – so unlike her, Luna. She didn't even stop to examine it. She just crushed it beneath her heel vehemently, without a word.

"No one said anything."

Luna took this in, cat-eyes glinting in the dimness. "I'll bet she's very confused, and very angry. We need to take special care of her, Usagi-chan. Now is when she needs us the most."

Usagi fell back onto her bed, streamers of hair curling around her pillows in ribbons. "I worry about her, you know. She's not like the others. Minako can cheer it away. Rei will burn her troubles to pieces. Makoto just gets angry. But Ami . . . what has Ami to release her sorrow?"

Luna approached and put a paw on Usagi's chest. She felt her charge's lungs rise in a deep swell.

Usagi's arm came around and swept the little cat up and onto her body. Luna, at first surprised, made no objection, verbal or otherwise. She curled against her, purring consolingly.

* * *

Nami sank against the warm surface of the fountain wall, head hanging heavily.

Ai knelt next to her, touching the blue-haired woman's shoulder in reassurance. "Rest for now, Nami-chan."

Nami's eyes flickered upward. A mist gathered and sunk in her lids, thickening, and trickled down her cheeks in pearly tears.

"I failed her. I don't know why – I keep failing the Lady."

"It _was_ difficult," Ai said. "There were too many of them."

"Please don't discharge me!" Nami's body tightened rapidly, and she clamped onto the smaller woman's in desperation. "Please, let me try again."

Ai nodded. "All right. But rest. And _think_. Perhaps your trouble is you've been thinking too much with your intellect and not your instinct." Here she poked Nami's forehead and giggled softly, girlishly.

Nami gathered her tears delicately with the back of her finger, she smiled a little – the first real smile she had yet given.

* * *

The spring sun finally chased the cold away, and the college friends were meeting in the park for a picnic, officiated by Makoto.

Rei shook out a blanket and let it drift onto the soft grass, but Usagi nose-dived into it before she had a chance to smooth out the wrinkles.

"Makoto, did you bring lemonade?" Usagi hoped, laying belly-down on the blanket and supporting her face in her open palms.

"I brewed fresh tea, for Zakuro." Makoto winked at the pale girl, whose shadowed grin crept out, despite herself.

"Usagi, get _off_," Rei shoved unceremoniously but to no avail.

As if to sabotage Rei's effort, Ami perched delicately on a corner and set down her woven basket. "I made some cookies, too," she said pleasantly.

"Oh, Ami-chan, I looove you!" Usagi gushed, springing at the short-haired woman and throwing her arms around her.

This Ami suffered with great dignity. "You're welcome, Usagi-chan."

"Wah, don't eat without me!" Minako, flushed and glowing, stood in a peach-colored sundress that highlighted the warm undertones in her cheeks, neck, and shoulders.

"Hey, Mina-chan; glad you could make it." An uncharacteristically affectionate Artemis weaved around her ankles.

Minako laughed.

"Break out the sushi!" Usagi cried eagerly.

"Seconded!" Luna said. She then twitched her whiskers in embarrassment. "What? It's my favorite." She then occupied herself with her tail in an attempt to regain her dignity.

"So," Makoto sat. She opened her basket full of gourmet delights, removing the packages one by one and placing them into Usagi's eager hands. "What is the news on the _Vampire Twilight_ project, Minako?"

Minako spread her skirt out primly and folded her hands in her lap. Her face was straight and schooled. "Well," she drew out, "Ito-san made a full recovery. Doesn't remember anything of the past few days. They believe she was over-working.

"As for the uncanny trembling, somebody official passed it off as an earthquake, which is just possible enough to explain the strange after-affect of everyone's disorientation."

"I see."

"And," Minako stretched her arms, looking nonchalant. "They offered me Ito's part as the vampire Scarlet for the pre-season release videos."

A succession of gasps flew up around her.

"No way!"

"They didn't!"

"Minako-chan, that's great!"

"And – " Minako held up her hand to silence them. "I turned it down."

The tide of enthusiasm jerked backward into a foggy cloud of disappointed sighs and deflated exclamations.

"But why did you do that?" Usagi asked, wide-eyed. "You want to be a famous idol so badly."

Minako shrugged. "I have more important responsibilities that come before being an idol." Her eyes met Artemis's meaningfully.

Zakuro looked around as everyone's faces settled into an understanding. She stored this reaction away in her curious mind to be examined later.

"And besides," Minako's face broke out into a grin, sunshine after a cloudy day, "I don't get the part I originally tried out for, but they did offer me a minor role, and I accepted it!"

"Oh, _wow_!" The group broke out into stunned applause.

"It's much less daunting; the pay is good. It gets me a foot into the business and is very flexible, which is just what I need!" She popped a still-cold grape into her mouth and chewed happily.

"Yay! My friend's an idol," Usagi said, reaching out for another package proffered by Makoto.

When the expected parcel never made contact with her, Usagi looked around in bewilderment. "Now – where?"

But Zakuro, the quick-witted, had intercepted the hand off, and was making quite a noisy meal of Makoto's fresh cream puffs.

* * *


	6. Episode 5

* * *

**Episode V**

**/ The Hot Springs and What Happened There /**

* * *

Zakuro sat on a tall stool behind a jewelry case, painfully erasing, sketching, erasing, and sketching again, trying to get her picture just right.

It was Golden Week, so all the schools excused the children from attending. It wasn't necessary for a private school like Zakuro's, but the Sisters' Academy let them go on national holidays as a point of honor.

The jeweler's itself was technically closed, but Calaveras was behind the back desk, doing the remainder of the computations. She had an amiable smile. Zakuro did not marvel that she had the best record for sales among her sisters.

The damages from the attack some weeks before were all but fixed – except for the door's bell, which was why no one heard when Rei entered, her dark hair hanging, a jagged wing at her back.

"Hi, Zakuro-chan."

The shadow fell over her drawing surface, but Zakuro wasn't startled. The priestess's smooth voice eliminated any anxiousness that accompanied her sudden appearance.

"Hello, Rei-chan." Zakuro nodded.

"Drawing something nice?"

"No, it's not coming out how I want."

Rei leaned over and glimpsed at the sheet of paper. She viewed the image upside down, but she could clearly discern it as a sailor-suited _senshi_.

"What do you mean? It looks fine."

Zakuro crumpled the piece of paper and held it balled in her hand. "Well, I don't like it anyway."

Rei pursed her lips a little, and then put her hand out to pat the adolescent on the head. "As long as you don't give up – then you're always successful."

"You sound like Minako-chan."

Rei's eyes rolled up, and her tongue stuck out a little in mock complaint.

The joke was successful. Zakuro laughed.

"Hey, Calaveras," Rei said, refocusing her attention on the brunette in the back.

"Wha? Oh, hi Rei-chan. Can you believe the weather? It's been so sketchy lately, like it can't make up its mine. We were planning on going to the beach this week. Now I'm wondering if it's going to be too cold." Calaveras punctuated her complaint with a tap of her pencil.

"That's kind of what I'm here to talk to you about," Rei said, walking toward Calaveras and shifting her bag to reach into it. "See, I won these tickets from a charity raffle at my old girls' academy – I didn't think I'd win." She produced a white envelope and displayed this for Calaveras's viewing.

"Oh, yeah? Tickets for what?"

"For a family trip to the hot springs, Rengen Onsen."

Calaveras lifted her hands to her face dreamily. "Sounds wonderful. You're so lucky!"

Rei shook out her black mane. "I can't go. I have to help my grandfather at the shrine for all the Golden Week pilgrimages."

Calaveras dropped her hands and looked somber. "What are you going to do?"

"I thought maybe you and your sisters could use them."

Calaveras smiled at the irony. "Rei-chan, you know I'd jump on the opportunity to visit some hot springs, but Beruche already reserved a little place at the beach."

Rei looked thoughtful. "All of you are going?"

"Well – yes."

Rei sighed.

"Did you try asking Usagi or the others?"

"Not Usagi," Rei said, mouth settling distastefully. "I haven't seen her in a while. Besides, who would go with her? I know Makoto and Ami already have plans, and I'll bet Minako wouldn't miss out on all the celebrations for the world – concerts, parades – you know Minako-chan."

Calaveras leaned into her hand, elbow poised on the desk. She thought for a moment. "I don't think Saffir and Demando made any arrangements for the holiday. We were going to have Zakuro stay here with them because she didn't seem eager about leaving without Demando."

"That's perfect!" Rei shot up. "Because I have three tickets here." She waved the envelope.

Calaveras mirrored her posture. "Hey, what do you think about that, Zakuro-chan? If Saffir and Demando-sama went with you?"

The little girl, who had been listening casually as she worked on a second drawing, lifted wide eyes to the woman and nodded solemnly.

"Great!" Rei said, handing Calaveras the prize envelope. "And if they decide they don't want to use them after all, feel free to pass them on to someone who can."

"Will do," said Calaveras. She flicked her wrist to glance at her watch. "Say, what are you doing right now? Want to go out to lunch?"

* * *

_Dear Usako,_

_Studying for midterms seems to take all my time lately. So much so that I've barely noticed the cherry trees blossoming everywhere. They remind me of you – sitting on the park bench in your mother's kimono, blushing petals caught in your bangs._

_I miss you. Until next time._

_Yours,_

_Mamo-chan_

Usagi folded the letter delicately and held the paper against her chest. She closed her eyes, and imagined she could smell his presence in the room with her. She sent all her good thoughts speeding across the water toward him.

Minako broke her roommate's quiet reverie by crashing in through the front door, all flushed cheeks and wind-blown golden strands.

"Wah! Usagi-chan! Cherry Studios is having a publicity panel this week! I'm going to be introduced to the fans and interviewed by the top _shojo_ magazines at a live panel!" She balled her fists to her mouth and shook them a little in excitement.

Usagi placed her paper back in its envelope; turned her attention to Minako. "No way! Do you think that you could get me some autographs?"

"Usagi-baka!" Minako bounded forward and knocked her fist none-too-softly on the top of Usagi's skull.

"Ow!"

"Do you only ever think about yourself?"

"No," Usagi pouted, "I was specifically thinking about _you_. Getting me autographs."

But Minako clapped her hands together and bounced around the room. "I can't wait to tell Artemis!"

"Tell me what?"

A muffled voice drifted out from somewhere deep in the armchair. It immediately preceded a white mass that drifted up, like rising bread dough, which ensued to wash its face and whiskers as Minako filled in all the details.

* * *

Petz's efforts deserved a gold star in the very least. She had successfully located, pinned down, and retrieved all of the members of the household to the unaccommodating, awkward dinner, where Beruche was even now spooning out large servings of Chinese take-out onto ceramic plates and passing them 'round.

"I bought a new bikini today. It was on sale at Lola's," Cooan said to Calaveras. "It's a teal blue with little rhinestones along the straps!"

"I need a tan," Calaveras sympathized. "I hope that the ocean-side is gorgeous this week!"

"And if we like it," Beruche said, having finished serving, sitting down to her meal, "we can reserve it again some time in the future. Might as well get a head start for the summer!"

Saffir studied an egg roll suspiciously. "What is this?"

"Just eat it," Petz ordered.

"Zakuro-chan, did you want some _lo mein_?" Cooan nudged a cardboard box in the girl's direction.

Zakuro nodded eagerly and reached for the box of noodles.

As Zakuro proceeded to scoop a mountain of slithering Chinese pasta onto her plate, Demando, who sat watching to her immediate right, decided to remove the cardboard container from her before the pile got dangerous and there was none left for the rest of the family.

Saffir chewed the tip of his chopsticks thoughtfully. "Now, what is an _onsen_ again, and why are we going there?"

Beruche was first to oblige. "Hot springs, for the sake of vacation and relaxation. Calaveras got tickets from Hino Rei."

Calaveras nodded enthusiastically. "They include transportation and everything!"

Saffir looked at his elder brother, but Demando sat eating quietly, eyes on plate.

"It's free, Saffir; and it's a great place for moping, so you should make yourself at home in no time," Petz said darkly, in a voice that alerted the table that she'd settled the matter.

* * *

Zakuro plodded down the narrow stair case, bumping her suitcase one step at a time. She paused midway to adjust her grip on the handle and heave the thing down the remainder of the stairs.

"I swear, she's happy I'm not going," Saffir muttered aside, but Demando promptly ignored him and went to fix the little suitcase so that Zakuro could wheel it around by its extended handle.

"I'm not going to lie to Petz for you," Demando stated pointedly.

Saffir's nondescript gaze faltered slightly. "Fine. But you and I both know there's more for me to do here. Besides, it's a much better vacation to have the whole place to myself – I'd be crazy to miss this opportunity."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the master key ring; jangled it in his fingers as he strolled to the door and started to unlock it from the inside.

"Have a great trip," he said, trying to sound cheerful. This elicited no less than a vague glare from the little girl.

Saffir suppressed the urge to shudder. Sometimes she could make him feel as small, insignificant, and translucent as Demando did.

No wonder she took to him.

Saffir suddenly made a sharp turn to disengage their interlocked stares. In the process, he narrowly avoided colliding into a swirling mass of hair and slender limbs.

"Wah! Saffir-sama!"

"What the hell – damn it – Tsukino-san – don't do that!" He clutched his chest as if to steady his heart.

Her wide eyes flickered up and down, as if watching the curses fall from his mouth like stones. Then she caught sight of Zakuro in the inner store and maneuvered inside before Saffir had composed himself.

"Hi, Usagi-chan." Zakuro said in her somber way. "Aren't you going to the beach too?"

"No," Usagi said blinkingly. "Who's going to the beach?"

"The Ayakashi sisters rented a cottage for the holidays," Demando answered. His voice drifting eerily from the back, like an autumn wind.

Upon realizing his presence, Usagi adjusted her posture.

She looked back down at Zakruo. "So you are meeting them there?"

Zakuro shook her head but offered no explanation.

"Zakuro and Demando-sama are spending a few days up at Rengen Onsen," Saffir offered, a bit impatiently.

"_What_?" Usagi plummeted to the ground, pig tails flailing. She sat on her knees and pushed her lip out in a ridiculous gesture.

Zakuro was not quite sure whether what followed: whether Usagi addressed _her_ or a general deity for whom she had lost all faith.

"Ohhh, Rei-chan gave you those tickets, didn't she?" she cried, in characteristic melodrama. "She told me she gave them away after the fact, and I thought it was really mean of her! She could have at least asked me. This is so cruel! Everyone's got something to do for Golden Week but me!"

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Then something in her sobered and straightened.

"It's going to be lonely," she murmured quietly.

In those five simple words, a bit of her bled out; and her audience could gather she was no longer talking about the holidays.

Zakuro was a deal above her eye level now that Usa knelt on the ground. She reached out and placed a finger to Usagi's forehead, right between and slightly above the young woman's eyebrows. Zakur frowned.

Usagi could feel Zakuro, vaguely willing her to stop. She watched the girl, completely distracted by the lightest of touches.

Then the child refocused. She lowered her finger.

"Come with us."

"What?" she spoke softly.

"Come with me and Demando."

* * *

The landscape was like a solid river ebbing by, and Usagi felt the train wasn't moving at all. She leaned closer to the window glass and watched as the cement buildings gave way to green hills and country roads.

They were an hour or so outside of Tokyo, and she still wasn't quite sure how she had ended up on a train speeding into the countryside.

No, that was not true. She remembered the events that led up to the present, but it was as though she moved instinctively; had fallen asleep as autopilot took the wheel.

In the store – it seemed only moments ago - Zakuro looked at her soulfully and asked her to come.

Usagi agreed.

There was some other sort of exchange, which was unimportant. Presently Saffir had returned with a duffel bag filled with some of Petz's clothing and ushered them out the door.

Usagi woke up a bit as their taxi pulled up to the train station. Her knees locked and refusing to unbend.

Then Zakuro had reached her open palm into the car, and Usagi took it.

They walked into the train station hand in hand.

Demando had been fairly quiet, for his part, but not cold. He'd maintained a balanced attitude of warmth and nonchalance for which Usagi couldn't help but be grateful. The way he acted made it clear that she was Zakuro's guest and that he respected that.

Now Zakuro was dozing in the seat next to her as Usagi watched the countryside grow and rise gradually, like the dawn.

Demando sat across the aisle, silently reading a newspaper.

A stirring in the seat next to her drew her eyes downward, just in time to see the eleven-year-old lean her head onto Usagi's shoulder.

Usagi smiled vaguely, remembering snatched moments of peace with another, far naughtier child.

* * *

The hostess dressed in traditional garb for a bath house. It was a small country inn, but full for the holiday, and as the hostess ushered them through the hallways, they had to maneuver around many other guests.

Usagi was uncharacteristically quiet: together the three of them made a muted group.

The hostess paid no mind to their silence, however, and went on talking in a self-important manner. She instructed them on how to use the _onsen_, where they could find food and beverage, what was unacceptable, what was expected, and so on.

She paused outside a traditional paper door and turned to them. "This will be your room. I'll bring a second mattress out for your daughter," she said, gesturing with her chin to the little girl hovering broodingly in the shadows.

Usagi felt suddenly dizzy, though she couldn't quite grasp why.

Fortunately, before she could either decipher her source of discomfort or succumb completely to the nausea, Demando put a gentle hand on Zakuro's shoulder and said:

"Actually, I'd like to purchase a second room if that's all right."

The woman – dark, silver-streaked hair pulled back tightly in a formal and unmerciful bun – lifted her eyebrows slightly. Perhaps she wondered if they wished to room the child separately; or maybe she guessed, rightly, that Demando intended to give the women their privacy. But the hostess retained her strained decorum, only replying, "Yes, of course," before sliding the door open and holding out her hand for them to enter.

* * *

Evening fell timidly in the mountains: first in the crevices, then lightly underneath the trees, finally rising into the atmosphere.

It was not until the sky was a navy sapphire that Usagi and Zakuro padded in their house shoes and robes down the old hallway and out into the crisp spring air around the hot springs.

There were groups of people moving about the open area wrapped in towels, yet it was surprisingly spacious.

Zakuro stood and looked around her in suspicion. But Usagi didn't hesitate to slip into the water at the edge of the spring and begin to wade, so that her white towel turned dark with dampness.

She paused to turn around to the child. "Zakuro-chan, come in."

This seemed to assure her. At Usagi's words, she dashed forward and all but jumped into the spring. The water churned where her body broke the water.

"It's hot!" she squeeled. But she was smiling.

Usagi giggled. "What did you expect, frigid glacier water?"

Zakuro circled her arms about her on the surface of the water, jumping a little in response to the heat.

Usagi put her tongue out and scrunched up her nose. "You really aren't from around here are you?" And she tugged playfully on one of Zakuro's pig tails.

Zakuro squirmed away and proceeded to bounce around in circles, splashing.

"I feel like a lobster being steamed for dinner," she exclaimed.

Usagi sunk deeper into the warm wetness, letting the ends of her looped pigtails drape in the water. She felt peaceful.

"Hey, Zakuro," she started.

The little girl looked wide-eyed at her.

"Thanks for inviting me," Usagi said. And her smile created more warmth in Zakuro than the steaming bath.

* * *

Nami enjoyed the touch of the warm steam against her bare skin. The _onsen_ was fairly old-fashioned – a bit country but comfortable. The baths were unisex, so most of the other guests kept their towels on to soak in the heated spring water. It was a family bath, and the ambiance was relaxed.

Nami soaked her feet and observed her enviornment. The coolness lingered in spring, creating a pleasant circulation of air and swirling mists. The adults bent their heads together in genial conversation. Every now and again one or two broke out into hearty laughter. The children splashed and paddled, chasing bubbles and playmates.

The braid of Nami's hair was undone, and the light blue wisps circled around her like a cloud in the water. She was grateful that Ai-chan forced her to take a vacation. If Nami was anything, she was an over-thinking, over-working over-achiever, and Ai knew this well enough, so sent her to clear her head.

"You're no use to me mussed as you are," Ai said cheerily.

Nami's shoulders tensed and then relaxed as the hot water loosened her muscles.

She closed her eyes.

* * *

Demando walked slowly through the corridor, treading lightly his stature. He had left Usagi and Zakuro to prepare their room and gone to his own, but a light annoyance grew faintly in the back of his head. Like the sound of a radio left on, humming, in a distant room.

He was too cautious not to be uneasy. The events of the recent past gave him cause for suspicion, especially for Zakuro's sake. She was a queer, elfish child, whose moods could change like puddle-colors reflecting after a rainstorm. But she had a quiet dignity about her that drew respect out of him. She was serious, and that made him smile a little because it reminded him of Saffir.

Awakening to the futility of lurking, he turned his steps back toward his private room. He thought to make use of the community bath, but first he wanted to give Zakuro and Usagi a little time alone.

* * *

The baths cleared as the night grew late. Usagi was lost with visions of western cities in the moonlight, apparitions in the steam. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

She must have drifted to sleep because a voice stirred the sudden blankness behind her lids. It was calm yet insistent..

"Hey, are you all right . . .?"

Usagi's head snapped forward. "Oh yes. I'm fine, thanks."

She focused on the face of a pretty woman, somewhat ethereal, emerging from the mist. Blue hair swirled around her, weaving patterns on the surface of the water. Eyes the color of ripe plums.

"It's late, you know," the woman said, unsmiling but not unkind.

"Oh – I must have fallen asleep," Usagi said, scratching the tip of her nose where it tingled.

The stillness alerted her to Zakuro's absence. She looked, but only a few adults remained in the bath. She must have wandered out to find a drink, or use the bathroom.

The blue-haired woman waved her arms around in the water in broad sweeps, looking for all the world like she belonged there. Usagi entertained the thought that she'd been born in water.

"My name's Usagi," she said.

"Ah. Mine's Nami."

"Are you on vacation with your family?" Usagi said pleasantly.

"Not really. And you?"

"Not really," Usagi giggled a little.

"Ah well. It's nice to get away from it all sometimes," Nami said, swimming around to Usagi's side so they could both look out toward the mountains.

"You know, I feel as though I've met you before," Usagi said.

"Who me? No, you wouldn't know me at all. I'm not really one to socialize."

"You don't seem shy!" Usagi said.

Nami smiled ironically. "It's not that. Sometimes, my head gets the better of me, and I drive people away with my insistence and precision."

Usagi raised her eyebrows. "Oh . . . sooooo . . . you're here to relax and learn to re-focus on the important things. Hm?"

Nami's head twitched a little toward her. "You're pretty fast."

The blond scratched her head and blinked blankly. "Um. No, I'm pretty sure I'm always the last one to figure things out. Rei-chan doesn't let me forget that!"

Nami didn't answer but looked thoughtful. The blonde had an innocent, almost startled look to her, as if she found the world around her utterly new and fascinating. It occurred to Nami that Usagi must _stumble_ upon revelations – such as the most recent one about herself – like an idiot savant. Or someone too naturally intuitive to realize it.

"Aren't the stars merry?"

Nami glanced at her. She was gazing into the cool night sky, face serene, as if she were greeting a familiar aquaintance.

She followed her gaze upward. "Merry?"

"Yes," Usagi nodded, and she smiled so widely at Nami that her eyes squished closed in little crescents. "So full of laugher. I love the stars."

She returned her gaze heaven-ward. "When I look at the stars, they calm me. They seem to ground me, to place me in the universe, and then I feel safe again."

Nami opened her mouth to answer. But when her lips parted, they were empty.

She watched the fair girl, almost luminous in the soft light of evening, and something in the core of her quaked and shifted. She felt a pain high behind her throat, which made her very uncomfortable. She wanted to cry.

"I think I'll be going." She rose abruptly and reached for a nearby orphaned towel. "It's getting late. It was nice talking to you." She bowed then stepped swiftly away over the damp mountain stones.

* * *

Nami secured the belt of her bath robe around her waste as she walked into the cool, dry hallway. The observations of the pretty young woman in the bath alarmed her. Not that what she said was so outlandish. In itself, it was rather simple. Almost quaint. It was that she _meant_ it. And that _meaning_ pulsed like a ruby light upon the shadows of Nami's center. It made her very aware of something – or the lack of it. She couldn't say exactly. And she tried to remove herself from her troubled thoughts and hardened herself.

She swept like a shadow down the dimly lit corridor, brushing by a tall glowing figure. Their arms barely touched, but the man was distracted an continued onward. Nami, however, felt a slight tingle in her shoulder. She stopped stop suddenly to wonder at the sensation.

In a light-speed moment, she made the connection. She swerved around quickly, just in time to get a good look at the retreating figure as he disappeared out the door. It was a tall man, with hair whiter than moonlight. But the sensation in her arm seemed to crack and crystallize, sending a tingling carbonation throughout her body, like black licorice.

Her eyes narrowed.

She knew that power. She knew that man.

* * *

"Yes?" the hostess severely slid open the door to her private office. "Is there something I can do for you?" She asked in politest terms, though the pitch of her voice suggested otherwise.

"I believe that I've been locked out of my room," Nami said, meeting the brutal business woman with equal sharpness.

"Your room number?"

"It's 15."

"Just let me get the key," the woman muttered. She turned before she even completed her sentence.

But Nami reached out and grasped her arm tightly, above the elbow, preventing the woman's movement.

For the first time, the hostess appeared diffident.

"Ex-excuse me?" she said, eyes wide, lips curled a little with disdain. She tried to wrench her arm violently (perhaps unnecessarily so) from Nami's grasp.

Nami smiled. "You know what? Never mind. I just remembered I've something more important for you to do." She smiled darkly.

The hostess's eyebrows slashed downward in disapproval.

But Nami raised two fingers, curled gently before her, and gradually the hostess's face began to change.

* * *

Demando stepped in the shallow steaming water and gradually immersed himself. He had never experienced natural springs before. Though the odor teased his nose rather unpleasantly, the deep healing sensation in his bones amended him.

His chest was bare but he wore a tower tightly about his waist, as did the other men.

There was the quite sound of gentle lapping, and he saw in the distance the fair head of a young woman, facing away from him.

"Demando-sama!"

Zakuro came splashing clumsily into the water and paddled up to him. "I was looking for you." She stood and took his hand as somberly as an old woman.

Usagi, who had heard Zakuro cry out, now turned to greet them, and Zakuro swam forward to join her.

A sudden rise in heat caused Demando's vision to fade then slowly focus. He thought he was looking at a hologram of a young, immortal queen. A very odd sensation of sudden, shuddering desire burst inside him. He felt a darkness burn behind his sockets as though unconsciousness tried to stifle him. He dropped his face into his hands and pressed deeply into his eyelids with his open palms.

The darkness cleared away. He opened his eyes to look up again, and there was only Usagi standing before him, watching curiously, with Zakuro at her elbow.

For a while, nothing happened. Usagi's face was a blank canvas, her cheeks as pink blossoms opening before his eyes.

He watched entranced.

Suddenly, a dark curtain seemed to fall over her face.

Her eyebrows rose. Her mouth parted.

Demando's brow furrowed worryingly. He started to swish forward in the water to come to her. Yet he had barely moved when a shrill screech pierced through his head, like a jolt of lightening. He instinctively swirled around to detect the source of the noise.

A tall, bony figure, jagged corners in place of joints, emerged out of the steam from behind and from the inn. The pull of hair about its face made Demando's mind immediately recall the hostess – but this creature was far more fowl and mutilated, hardly a human being at all. Her skin was stretched as bark over a worn tree, and her fingers crinkled into sharp grasping claws. Her eyes were a dull, mucus-yellow, and the pupils dilated like black sores, rolling continually around in her head.

Then they settled on him.

The evil creature screeched her attack and sprang, an arrow to its mark. Demando barely caught her grasping claws in his wrists, and the creature hissed, fowl-breathed, inches away from his face. They grappled.

Demando felt his grip loosening. The monster procured unnatural strength and was leaning, leaning into him. Hot liquid sloshed into his face, and he coughed, trying to keep his breath. He felt his footing being to slip in the water.

In his panic, he retaliated.

A surge of eerie purple light hovered over his forehead. It spread throughout body and limbs. His hands became conduits to charge the raw power into the monster's body. It flew back, howling in pain, as Demando slipped and fell stricken into the water.

He was disoriented. For some time he struggled, unsure of which direction lay air and safety.

Then he sputtered into the cool night air, slashing about him in confusion.

Through their stinging fogginess, his eyes caught Usagi.

She had come out of the water, a tower wrapped tightly around her, wet hair dangling in soggy loops.

He couldn't for the life of him understand why she was going toward the danger, not away. Then the moment passed in a flash of dazzling light, swirling around her body like a dance of fireflies reflected upon a thousand mirrors.

And there, defiantly, stood Sailor Moon.

She had barely time to measure her surroundings before the monster charged her. Its claws sprung to tear her. But Sailor Moon procured a wand (that had not been there a moment ago), took the instrument in both hands, and swung it with a great might to the head of the on-coming creature.

Now assured of the young woman's ability to defend herself, Demando's thoughts turned. He looked about him ravenously. Zakuro was nowhere to be found.

Sailor Moon struggled again with the foul monster.

Demando hurriedly made his way out of the water, not even pausing to throw a robe over his wet skin, bare as he dashed into the inn.

The door slid closed behind. The hair on the back of his neck pricked. In the dim corridor there stood a figure of a tall woman.

His adjusted and focused. He recognized the woman then as the strange _senshi_ in blue – the one who attacked his family and his jewelry store.

He straightened like an iron rod.

The two gazed at each other with glinting eyes.

Neither spoke.

The Nami moved. She lunged at him, palm outward, and came into contact with his chest.

Demando buckled slightly under the numbing pain, against his chest like a block of ice. He swallowed hard.

She charged again. This time he dodged her palm and used her momentum to throw her with all his strength toward the rice paper door. She flew straight through the thin material, landing awkwardly on her left hip and elbow. Her brows furrowed in pain. In a flash, she was up and facing him again. Nami glared defiantly.

Then a pitiful sound like a dying animal roused her. Her head turned sharply. She saw that Sailor Moon had already done with her host. The thing shrunk in size but fleshed out. The bark-tight hair loosened from its severe bun to fall in silver and gray streaks about narrow, proud shoulders. But the hostess sunk onto her knees. Fell forward slowly. On the back of her right arm, above the elbow, the insignia of Mercury flashed and faded.

Nami glanced sharply back at the white-haired man. Even now he glowed with an uncanny light. She bit her lip. Cradling her left elbow in her right hand, she jerked her chin upward, directing a slew of water that surrounded her and then showered, leaving only mist, and emptiness.

* * *

Their footsteps were heavy on the dark paneled floor, beating a comforting rhythm of alternating _light, light, heavy, light, heavy, heavy_.

They needn't say a thing. They were looking for the little girl.

Demando stopped abruptly and muttered, "In here."

They segued through the private offices and came out into their own wing. Usagi all but fell over her feet trying to get to her door. Swinging it open, she glanced about the room furtively – only everything remained clean, still, untouched.

Demando took all this in over her shoulder. He dashed down the hall to another door, pulled it open and clamorously entered.

There kneeled Zakuro, clammy and cold, nose ruddy, wrapped in the bedding of his futon in the corner of the room.

She flinched when the door opened. But when she saw, she stood immediately and ran toward him.

He caught her deftly in his arms, lifted her up.

"I'm sorry," her voice trembled into his bare chest. "I didn't mean to run away, I – I was afraid."

He shushed her lowly, and held her for a long time.

* * *

The hostess, when she was found wandering about the gardens in mild confusion, was put right to bed and given strict orders to rest, as it was suspected she had suffered a stroke.

Zakuro was henceforth wary of the hot springs, and preferred to stay holed in her room, watching animated shows that aired on the humble-sized television.

Usagi sat on the bed with her school book open to study. Instead, she drew circles again and again in the margins. They drifted out and became stars, hearts, and moons of all sizes.

Demando knocked quietly before entering, bringing a brown paper bag full of something good-smelling and hot.

Usagi sat up and went to help him set up their small table for lunch.

Unspoken words troubled their movements, though Zakuro remained obliviously entertained by the flashing television screen.

Usagi spoke. "Mm – Demando-sama? About all this. I was thinking . . ."

He waited.

"Maybe next time we should just all go to the beach with the others."

The pale man stared for two seconds.

Then his eyes crinkled, his mouth twitched, and he did something very strange.

He laughed.

It was short but authentic. Usagi couldn't help but giggle a little in reciprocation.

Zakuro, who had started at the sound of Demando's laughter, now rose and clambered toward the table. She grinned a silly grin as she reached for the tempura, though she hardly knew the joke.

* * *

"Once, when _I_ was in the sixth grade," Usagi said, "I got detention for a whole month!"

Zakuro's eyes widened. "How did you manage that?"

They were un-boarding the train after what had been a pleasant, conversational journey. The three of them had spoken on many subjects, mainly sparking around the curiosities and eccentricities of the eleven-year-old. These, in turn, led to many revelations from the older blonde.

"It was when my best friend Naru and I decided that we were going to be pop idols," Usagi continued, leaning forward and darting her eyes back and forth, divulging a great secret, "so we brought a video camera to school and to film ourselves doing our dance numbers and singing our top-chart hits in the hallways and girls' bathrooms! We squeezed in some footage every time we had a chance.

"Well, it was all going well until Naru said that we needed a good view, so we _had_ to go to the top of the roof to get the cityscape in the background for our music video. Our school kept pigeons up there, as class pets and sometimes for science classes. I had this _brilliant_ idea to film from inside the cage – to give it a closed-in effect, you know. As I was opening the latch, I sort of tripped and tried to grab the cage door for balance, but it flew back and slammed open, startling all the birds! Needless to say, only three of them out of fifty ever came back . . ."

As if to imitate the prodigal birds, the three perched on the landing, hardly noticing the weight of their bags, they were so taken with their conversation.

"I thought pigeons were always good at finding their way home," Demando mused.

Usagi twitched her mouth a little. "That's what I said! But my teacher was livid and wouldn't listen to reason! She made me come every day after school that month and stay late, reciting lines in English and doing," here she made a vulgar face, "_multiplication_."

Zakuro put a finger to her chin thoughtfully, "Maybe those pigeons are grateful to you, for setting them free." She tilted her head and grinned, "And they come back every now and then to your windowsill in the moonlight, to kiss you while you sleep."

Usagi met this sentiment seamlessly, and the two smiled at each other giddily, adding sweet anecdotes to the tale of the birds she valiantly rescued.

But Demando was quiet, looking thoughtfully back and forth, from the girl to the young woman.

"Usagi-chan!" a powerful cry rang out in the station, demanding their attention.

Immediately, Makoto emerged from the crowd. She tackled Usagi with her embrace. "What are _you_ doing here? We're just coming back from the beach! You won't believe who we met there!"

She paused then, just noticing Usagi's company, during which time the smaller Ami appeared, rather more gracefully, and greeted the others.

"Hello. Demando-sama. Zakuro-chan." The petite woman nodded.

"Mizuno-san," Demando bowed a little, hand to his breast regally. As the others watched on, Makoto noted a slight blush creep into Usagi's cheeks. She suddenly realized in what kind of scandalously attractive company she'd been caught by her friends.

"Usagi, you didn't end up going to the beach after all?" Ami blinked. "I thought you couldn't afford it."

"No, not exactly," Usagi trailed sheepishly.

"Were . . . the three of you . . . all together?" Makoto asked, catching on.

"Usagi-chan came with me and Demando-sama to the hot springs," confirmed Zakuro.

"The hot springs! Oh, those tickets Rei was trying to give away, right?" Ami asked.

Demando nodded and said, "My brother Saffir bowed out at the last minute. So Zakuro invited Tsukino-san."

"How lovely," Ami smiled pleasantly.

Makoto grinned knowingly at Usagi, who was trying to avoid her gaze.

"Demando-sama! Kuro-chan!"

At that moment, the little reunion swelled twice in size, as the Ayakashi approached from the opposite direction, all sporting fresh glowing tans and sun-lightened hair.

"And Usagi-chan! Ami, Makoto!" Beruche smiled. "I can't believe we're running into you two _again_, after seeing you at the beach!"

"Where is Saffir?" It was Petz, who seemingly materialized behind Demando. She was gazing lividly. "Did he bail on you? I swear, when I get ahold of him . . ."

"Oh, he was very kind to let me go in his place," Usagi said, holidng up her hands in an attempt to sooth the woman's nerves.

"He did – he – oh, he _did_? Well," Petz's features softened magically. She suddenly acquired the rude habit of staring, alternatingly, at Usagi and Demando.

"What a pleasant arrangement!" Calaveras smiled broadly.

"I don't believe it!" It was a tenth voice, arriving spontaneously from the entrance to the station. Now the threesome had officially been assaulted from all directions.

"Rei-chan!" Usagi choked. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to pick up Makoto and Ami. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I – "

"She ended up using the third ticket of yours, Rei-chan," Petz explained helpfully, now placated.

Rei put her hands to her hips, a little smugly "Oh. Is that so?" She leaned back, almost balancing, to take a full survey of the blushing blonde. "You'll have to tell us _all_ about it!"

* * *

In the shadows before the door to the garden courtyard, Nami paced back and forth. She hesitated to enter. She stopped then, eyes focusing into nowhere.

"I won't tell Aiko – not this time," her voice sounded resolvedly. It echoed in the depthless dark.

* * *

_Author's Note: This took exceedingly long to post. I'm sorry. I hope it wasn't as hard for you to read as it was for me to write. Please review!_


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